
WHAT KATY 
DID 


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WHAT KATY DID 


































































































































































c ‘ What a bright thought! ’ ’ cried Katy , clapping her 
hands . FRONTISPIECE. See page 203. 






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What Katy Did 


By 


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Susan Coolidge a'.-' 1 - 

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With Illustrations in Color by 
Ralph Pallen Coleman 


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Boston 

Little, Brown, and Company 
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Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, 
By Roberts Brothers, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington 

Copyright, 1900, 

By Sarah C. Woolsey. 

Copyright, 1924, 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 

All rights reserved. 

Published August, 1924. 


PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OP AMERICA 


AUG lb 1924 

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4 * * * 

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©Cl A 80 1857 

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TO FIVE. 


Six of us once, my darlings, played together 
Beneath green boughs, which faded long ago, 

Made merry in the golden summer weather, 

Pelted each other with new-fallen snow. 

Did the sun always shine? I can’t remember 
A single cloud that dimmed the happy blue, — 

A single lightning-bolt or peal of thunder, 

To daunt our bright, unfearing lives: can you? 

We quarrelled often, but made peace as quickly, 

Shed many tears, but laughed the while they fell, 
Had our small woes, our childish bumps and bruises, 
But Mother always “ kissed and made them well.” 

Is it long since? — it seems a moment only: 

Yet here we are in bonnets and tail-coats, 

Grave men of business, members of committees, 

Our play-time ended: even Baby votes! 

And star-eyed children, in whose innocent faces 
Kindles the gladness which was once our own, 
Crowd round our knees, with sweet and coaxing voices, 
Asking for stories of that old-time home. 

“Were you once little too?” they say, astonished; 

“ Did you too play? How funny! tell us how.” 
Almost we start, forgetful for a moment; 

Almost we answer, “We are little now!” 



VI 


To Five 


Dear friend and lover, whom To-day we christen, 
Forgive such brief bewilderment, — thy true 
And kindly hand we hold; we own thee fairest. 
But ah! our yesterday was precious too. 

So, darlings, take this little childish story, 

In which some gleams of the old sunshine play, 
And, as with careless hands you turn the pages, 
Look back and smile, as here I smile to-day. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER p AG E 

I The Little Carrs .. , i 

II Paradise. 15 

III The Day of Scrapes.30 

IV Kikeri. 48 

V In the Loft.67 

VI Intimate Friends.87 

VII Cousin Helen’s Visit. 114 

VIII To-Morrow.141 

IX Dismal Days.161 

X St. Nicholas and St. Valentine .... 187 

XI A New Lesson to Learn. 215 

XII Two Years Afterward. 232 

XIII At Last . A ...... . 256 
















> 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


“What a bright thought!” cried Katy, clapping her hands 

Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

“If you won’t tell,” said Katy, “I’ll let you see Dorry’s 
journal”.26 

There was Alexander, the hired man, standing outside on 
a tall ladder.56 

“I’m Dr. Carr’s little girl,” answered Katy, going 
straight up to the bed. “I came to bring you some 
flowers”.98 

Katy rushed off to “weep a little weep,” all by herself . 138 









> 


WHAT KATY DID 


CHAPTER I 

THE LITTLE CARRS 

I was sitting in the meadows one day, not 
long ago, at a place where there was a small 
brook. It was a hot day. The sky was very 
blue, and white clouds, like great swans, went 
floating over it to and fro. Just opposite me 
was a clump of green rushes, with dark vel¬ 
vety spikes, and among them one single tall, 
red cardinal flower, which was bending over 
the brook as if to see its own beautiful face in 
the water. But the cardinal did not seem to 
be vain. 

The picture was so pretty that I sat a long 
time enjoying it. Suddenly, close to me, two 
small voices began to talk — or to sing, for I 
couldn’t tell exactly which it was. One voice 
was shrill; the other, which was a little deeper, 
sounded very positive and cross. They were 


2 


What Katy Did 

evidently disputing about something, for they 
said the same words over and over again. 
These were the words — “ Katy did.” “ Katy 
didn’t.” “ She did.” “ She didn’t.” “ She 
did.” “ She didn’t.” “Did.” “Didn’t.” I 
think they must have repeated them at least a 
hundred times. 

I got up from my seat to see if I could find 
the speakers; and sure enough, there on one 
of the cat-tail bulrushes, I spied two tiny pale- 
green creatures. Their eyes seemed to be 
weak, for they both wore black goggles. They 
had six legs apiece, — two short ones, two not 
so short, and two very long. These last legs 
had joints like the springs to buggy-tops; 
and as I watched, they began walking up the 
rush, and then I saw that they moved exactly 
like an old-fashioned gig. In fact, if I hadn’t 
been too big, I think I should have heard them 
creak as they went along. They didn’t say 
anything so long as I was there, but the mo¬ 
ment my back was turned they began to quar¬ 
rel again, and in the same old words — “ Katy 
did.” “ Katy didn’t.” “ She did.” “ She 
didn’t.” 


The Little Carrs 


3 

As I walked home I fell to thinking about 
another Katy, — a Katy I once knew, who 
planned to do a great many wonderful things, 
and in the end did none of them, but some¬ 
thing quite different, — something she didn’t 
like at all at first, but which, on the whole, was 
a great deal better than any of the doings she 
had dreamed about. And as I thought, this 
little story grew in my head, and I resolved to 
write it down for you. I have done it; and, in 
memory of my two little friends on the bul¬ 
rush, I give it their name. Here it is — the 
story of What Katy Did. 

Katy’s name was Katy Carr. She lived in 
the town of Burnet, which wasn’t a very big 
town, but was growing as fast as it knew how. 
The house she lived in stood on the edge of 
the town. It was a large square house, white, 
with green blinds, and had a porch in front, 
over which roses and clematis made a thick 
bower. Four tall locust trees shaded the 
gravel path which led to the front gate. On 
one side of the house was an orchard; on the 
other side were wood piles and barns, and an 


4 


What Katy Did 

ice-house. Behind was a kitchen garden slop¬ 
ing to the south; and behind that a pasture 
with a brook in it, and butternut trees, and 
four cows — two red ones, a yellow one with 
sharp horns tipped with tin, and a dear little 
white one named Daisy. 

There were six of the Carr children — four 
girls and two boys. Katy, the oldest, was 
twelve years old; little Phil, the youngest, was 
four, and the rest fitted in between. 

Dr. Carr, their Papa, was a dear, kind, busy 
man, who was away from home all day, and 
sometimes all night, too, taking care of sick 
people. The children hadn’t any Mamma. 
She had died when Phil was a baby, four years 
before my story began. Katy could remember 
her pretty well; to the rest she was but a sad, 
sweet name, spoken on Sunday, and at prayer- 
times, or when Papa was especially gentle and 
solemn. 

In place of this Mamma, whom they recol¬ 
lected so dimly, there was Aunt Izzie, Papa’s 
sister, who came to take care of them when 
Mamma went away on that long journey, from 
which, for so many months, the little ones kept 


The Little Carrs 


5 

hoping she might return. Aunt Izzie was a 
small woman, sharp-faced and thin, rather old- 
looking, and very neat and particular about 
everything. She meant to be kind to the chil¬ 
dren, but they puzzled her much, because they 
were not a bit like herself when she was a 
child. Aunt Izzie had been a gentle, tidy lit¬ 
tle thing, who loved to sit as Curly Locks did, 
sewing long seams in the parlor, and to have 
her head patted by older people, and be told 
that she was a good girl; whereas Katy tore 
her dress every day, hated sewing, and didn’t 
care a button about being called “ good,” 
while Clover and Elsie shied off like restless 
ponies when any one tried to pat their heads. 
It was very perplexing to Aunt Izzie, and she 
found it hard to quite forgive the children for 
being so “ unaccountable,” and so little like 
the good boys and girls in Sunday-school 
memoirs, who were the young people she liked 
best, and understood most about. 

Then Dr. Carr was another person who 
worried her. He wished to have the children 
hardy and bold, and encouraged climbing and 
rough plays, in spite of the bumps and ragged 


6 


What Katy Did 

clothes which resulted. In fact, there was just 
one half-hour of the day when Aunt Izzie was 
really satisfied about her charges, and that was 
the half-hour before breakfast, when she had 
made a law that they were all to sit in their 
little chairs and learn the Bible verse for the 
day. At this time she looked at them with 
pleased eyes, they were all so spick and span, 
with such nicely-brushed jackets and such 
neatly-combed hair. But the moment the bell 
rang her comfort was over. From that time 
on, they were what she called “ not fit to be 
seen.” The neighbors pitied her very much. 
They used to count the sixty stiff white panta- 
lette legs hung out to dry every Monday morn¬ 
ing, and say to each other what a sight of wash¬ 
ing those children made, and what a chore it 
must be for poor Miss Carr to keep them so 
nice. But poor Miss Carr didn’t think them at 
all nice; that was the worst of it. 

“ Clover, go up stairs and wash your hands! 
Dorry, pick your hat off the floor and hang it 
on the nail! Not that nail — the third nail 
from the corner! ” These were the kind of 
things Aunt Izzie was saying all day long. 


The Little Carrs 7 

The children minded her pretty well, but they 
didn’t exactly love her, I fear. They called 
her “ Aunt Izzie ” always, never “ Aunty.” 
Boys and girls will know what that meant. 

I want to show you the little Carrs, and I 
don’t know that I could ever have a better 
chance than one day when five out of the six 
were perched on top of the ice-house, like 
chickens on a roost. This ice-house was one 
of their favorite places. It was only a low 
roof set over a hole in the ground, and, as it 
stood in the middle of the side-yard, it always 
seemed to the children that the shortest road 
to every place was up one of its slopes and 
down the other. They also liked to mount 
to the ridge-pole, and then, still keeping the 
sitting position, to let go, and scrape slowly 
down over the warm shingles to the ground. 
It was bad for their shoes and trousers, of 
course, but what of that 4 ? Shoes and trousers, 
and clothes generally, were Aunt Izzie’s 
affair; theirs was to slide and enjoy them¬ 
selves. 

Clover, next in age to Katy, sat in the 
middle. She was a fair, sweet dumpling of a 


8 


What Katy Did 

girl, with thick pig-tails of light brown hair, 
and short-sighted blue eyes, which seemed to 
hold tears, just ready to fall from under the 
blue. Really, Clover was the joiliest little 
thing in the world; but these eyes, and her 
soft cooing voice, always made people feel 
like petting her and taking her part. Once, 
when she was very small, she ran away with 
Katy’s doll, and when Katy pursued, and tried 
to take it from her, Clover held fast and would 
not let go. Dr. Carr, who wasn’t attending 
particularly, heard nothing but the pathetic 
tone of Clover’s voice, as she said: “ Me 
won’t! Me want dolly! ” and, without stop¬ 
ping to inquire, he called out sharply: “ For 
shame, Katy! give your sister her doll at 
once!” which Katy, much surprised, did; 
while Clover purred in triumph, like a satis¬ 
fied kitten. Clover was sunny and sweet- 
tempered, a little indolent, and very modest 
about herself, though, in fact, she was par¬ 
ticularly clever in all sorts of games, and ex¬ 
tremely droll and funny in a quiet way. 
Everybody loved her, and she loved every- 


The Little Carrs 


9 

body, especially Katy, whom she looked up 
to as one of the wisest people in the world. 

Pretty little Phil sat next on the roof to 
Clover, and she held him tight with her arm. 
Then came Elsie, a thin, brown child of eight, 
with beautiful dark eyes, and crisp, short curls 
covering the whole of her small head. Poor 
little Elsie was the “ odd one 55 among the 
Carrs. She didn’t seem to belong exactly to 
either the older or the younger children. The 
great desire and ambition of her heart was to 
be allowed to go about with Katy and Clover 
and Cecy Hall, and to know their secrets, and 
be permitted to put notes into the little post- 
offices they were forever establishing in all 
sorts of hidden places. But they didn’t want 
Elsie, and used to tell her to “ run away and 
play with the children,” which hurt her feel¬ 
ings very much. When she wouldn’t run 
away, I am sorry to say they ran away from 
her, which, as their legs were longest, it was 
easy to do. Poor Elsie, left behind, would 
cry bitter tears, and, as she was too proud to 
play much with Dorry and John, her principal 
comfort was tracking the older ones about and 


10 


What Katy Did 

discovering their mysteries, especially the 
post-offices, which were her greatest grievance. 
Her eyes were bright and quick as a bird’s. 
She would peep and peer, and follow and 
watch, till at last, in some odd, unlikely place, 
the crotch of a tree, the middle of the aspara¬ 
gus bed, or, perhaps, on the very top step of 
the scuttle ladder, she spied the little paper 
box, with its load of notes, all ending with: 
“ Be sure and not let Elsie know.” Then 
she would seize the box, and, marching up to 
wherever the others were, she would throw it 
down, saying, defiantly: “ There’s your old 
post-office! ” but feeling all the time just like 
crying. Poor little Elsie! In almost every 
big family, there is one of these unmated, left- 
out children. Katy, who had the finest plans 
in the world for being “ heroic,” and of use, 
never saw, as she drifted on her heedless way, 
that here, in this lonely little sister, was the 
very chance she wanted for being a comfort 
to somebody who needed comfort very much. 
She never saw it, and Elsie’s heavy heart went 
uncheered. 

Dorry and Joanna sat on the two ends of 


The Little Carrs 


II 


the ridge-pole. Dorry was six years old; a 
pale, pudgy boy, with rather a solemn face, 
and smears of molasses on the sleeve of his 
jacket. Joanna, whom the children called 
“ John,” and “ Johnnie,” was a square, splen¬ 
did child, a year younger than Dorry; she had 
big brave eyes, and a wide rosy mouth, which 
always looked ready to laugh. These two 
were great friends, though Dorry seemed like 
a girl who had got into boy’s clothes by mis¬ 
take, and Johnnie like a boy who, in a fit of 
fun, had borrowed his sister’s frock. And now, 
as they all sat there chattering and giggling, 
the window above opened, a glad shriek was 
heard, and Katy’s head appeared. In her 
hand she held a heap of stockings, which she 
waved triumphantly. 

“ Hurray! ” she cried, “ all done, and Aunt 
Izzie says we may go. Are you tired out wait¬ 
ing*? I couldn’t help it, the holes were so big, 
and took so long. Hurry up, Clover, and get 
the things! Cecy and I will be down in a 
minute.” 

The children jumped up gladly, and slid 
down the roof. Clover fetched a couple of 


12 What Katy Did 

baskets from the wood-shed. Elsie ran for her 
kitten. Dorry and John loaded themselves 
with two great fagots of green boughs. Just 
as they were ready, the side-door banged, and 
Katy and Cecy Hall came into the yard. 

I must tell you about Cecy. She was a great 
friend of the children’s, and lived in a house 
next door. The yards of the houses were only 
separated by a green hedge, with no gate, so 
that Cecy spent two-thirds of her time at Dr. 
Carr’s, and was exactly like one of the family. 
She was a neat, dapper, pink-and-white-girl, 
modest and prim in manner, with light shiny 
hair, which always kept smooth, and slim 
hands, which never looked dirty. How differ¬ 
ent from my poor Katy! Katy’s hair was for¬ 
ever in a snarl; her gowns were always catch¬ 
ing on nails and tearing “ themselves ” ; and, 
in spite of her age and size, she was as heed¬ 
less and innocent as a child of six. Katy was 
the longest girl that was ever seen. What she 
did to make herself grow so, nobody could 
tell; but there she was — up above Papa’s ear, 
and half a head taller than poor Aunt Izzie. 
Whenever she stopped to think about her 


The Little Carrs 


13 

height she became very awkward, and felt as 
if she were all legs and elbows, and angles and 
joints. Happily, her head was so full of other 
things, of plans and schemes, and fancies of 
all sorts, that she didn’t often take time to re¬ 
member how tall she was. She was a dear, 
loving child, for all her careless habits, and 
made bushels of good resolutions every week 
of her life, only unluckily she never kept any 
of them. She had fits of responsibility about 
the other children, and longed to set them a 
good example, but when the chance came, she 
generally forgot to do so. Katy’s days flew 
like the wind; for when she wasn’t studying 
lessons, or sewing and darning with Aunt 
Izzie, which she hated extremely, there were 
always so many delightful schemes rioting in 
her brains, that all she wished for was ten pairs 
of hands to carry them out. These same active 
brains got her into perpetual scrapes. She was 
fond of building castles in the air, and dream¬ 
ing of the time when something she had done 
would make her famous, so that everybody 
would hear of her, and want to know her. I 
don’t think she had made up her mind what 


14 What Katy Did 

this wonderful thing was to be; but while 
thinking about it she often forgot to learn a 
lesson, or to lace her boots, and then she had 
a bad mark, or a scolding from Aunt Izzie. At 
such times she consoled herself with planning 
how, by and by, she would be beautiful and 
beloved, and amiable as an angel. A great 
deal was to happen to Katy before that time 
came. Her eyes, which were black, were to 
turn blue; her nose was to lengthen and 
straighten, and her mouth, quite too large at 
present to suit the part of a heroine, was to 
be made over into a sort of rosy button. 
Meantime, and until these charming changes 
should take place, Katy forgot her features 
as much as she could, though still, I think, the 
person on earth whom she most envied was 
that lady on the outside of the Tricopherous 
bottles with the wonderful hair which sweeps 
the ground. 


CHAPTER II 


PARADISE- 

The place to which the children were going 
was a sort of marshy thicket at the bottom of 
a field near the house. It wasn’t a big thicket, 
but it looked big, because the trees and bushes 
grew so closely that you could not see just 
where it ended. In winter the ground was 
damp and boggy, so that nobody went there, 
excepting cows, who don’t mind getting their 
feet wet; but in summer the water dried away, 
and then it was all fresh and green, and full 
of delightful things — wild roses, and sassa¬ 
fras, and birds’ nests. Narrow, winding paths 
ran here and there, made by the cattle as they 
wandered to and fro. This place the children 
called “ Paradise,” and to them it seemed as 
wide and endless and full of adventure as any 
forest of fairy land. 

The way to Paradise was through some 
wooden bars. Katy and Cecy climbed these 


i6 


What Katy Did 

with a hop, skip and jump, while the smaller 
ones scrambled underneath. Once past the 
bars they were fairly in the field, and, with one 
consent, they all began to run till they reached 
the entrance of the wood. Then they halted, 
with a queer look of hesitation on their faces. 
It was always an exciting occasion to go to 
Paradise for the first time after the long win¬ 
ter. Who knew what the fairies might not 
have done since any of them had been there 
to see? 

“ Which path shall we go in by?” asked 
Clover, at last. 

“ Suppose we vote,” said Katy. “ I say 
by the Pilgrim’s Path and the Hill of Diffi¬ 
culty.” 

“ So do I! ” chimed in Clover, who always 
agreed with Katy. 

“ The Path of Peace is nice,” suggested 
Cecy. 

“No, no! We want to go by Sassafras 
Path! ” cried John and Dorry. 

However, Katy, as usual, had her way. It 
was agreed that they should first try Pilgrim’s 
Path, and afterward make a thorough explora- 


Paradise 


17 


tion of the whole of their little kingdom, and 
see all that had happened since last they were 
there. So in they marched, Katy and Cecy 
heading the procession, and Dorry, with his 
great trailing bunch of boughs, bringing up 
the rear. 

“ Oh, there is the dear Rosary, all safe! ” 
cried the children, as they reached the top of 
the Hill of Difficulty, and came upon a tall 
stump, out of the middle of which waved a 
wild rose-bush, budded over with fresh green 
leaves. This “ Rosary ” was a fascinating 
thing to their minds. They were always in¬ 
venting stories about it, and were in constant 
terror lest some hungry cow should take a 
fancy to the rose-bush and eat it up. 

“ Yes,” said Katy, stroking a leaf with her 
finger, “ it was in great danger one night last 
winter, but it escaped.” 

“Oh, how? Tell us about it! ” cried the 
others, for Katy’s stories were famous in the 
family. 

“ It was Christmas Eve,” continued Katy, 
in a mysterious tone. “ The fairy of the Ro¬ 
sary was quite sick. She had taken a dreadful 


i8 


What Katy Did 

cold in her head, and the poplar-tree fairy, 
just over there, told her that sassafras tea is 
good for colds. So she made a large acorn- 
cup full, and then cuddled herself in where 
the wood looks so black and soft, and fell 
asleep. In the middle of the night, when she 
was snoring soundly, there was a noise in the 
forest, and a dreadful black bull with fiery 
eyes galloped up. He saw our poor Rosy Posy, 
and, opening his big mouth, he was just going 
to bite her in two; but at that minute a little 
fat man, with a wand in his hand, popped out 
from behind the stump. It was Santa Claus, 
of course. He gave the bull such a rap with 
his wand that he moo-ed dreadfully, and then 
put up his fore-paw, to see if his nose was on 
or not. He found it was, but it hurt him so 
that he ‘ moo-ed ’ again, and galloped off as 
fast as he could into the woods. Then Santa 
Claus waked up the fairy, and told her that if 
she didn’t take better care of Rosy Posy he 
should put some other fairy into her place, and 
set her to keep guard over a prickly, scratchy, 
blackberry-bush.” 

“ Is there really any fairy? ” asked Dorry, 


Paradise 


19 

who had listened to this narrative with open 
mouth. 

“ Of course,” answered Katy. Then bend¬ 
ing down toward Dorry, she added in a voice 
intended to be of wonderful sweetness: “ I 

am a fairy, Dorry! ” 

“ Pshaw!” was Dorry’s reply; “ you’re a 
giraffe — Pa said so! ” 

The Path of Peace got its name because of 
its darkness and coolness. High bushes al¬ 
most met over it, and trees kept it shady, even 
in the middle of the day. A sort of white 
flower grew there, which the children called 
Pollypods, because they didn’t know the real 
name. They staid a long while picking 
bunches of these flowers, and then John and 
Dorry had to grub up an armful of sassafras 
roots; so that before they had fairly gone 
through Toadstool Avenue, Rabbit Hollow, 
and the rest, the sun was just over their heads, 
and it was noon. 

“ I’m getting hungry,” said Dorry. 

“ Oh, no, Dorry, you mustn’t be hungry till 
the bower is ready! ” cried the little girls, 
alarmed, for Dorry was apt to be disconsolate 


20 


What Katy Did 

if he was kept waiting for his meals. So they 
made haste to build the bower. It did not take 
long, being composed of boughs hung over 
skipping-ropes, which were tied to the very 
poplar-tree where the fairy lived who had 
recommended sassafras tea to the Fairy of the 
Rose. 

When it was done they all cuddled in un¬ 
derneath. It was a very small bower — just 
big enough to hold them, and the baskets, and 
the kitten. I don’t think there would have 
been room for anybody else, not even another 
kitten. Katy, who sat in the middle, untied 
and lifted the lid of the largest basket, while 
all the rest peeped eagerly to see what was 
inside. 

First came a great many ginger cakes. 
These were carefully laid on the grass to keep 
till wanted: buttered biscuit came next — 
three apiece, with slices of cold lamb laid in 
between; and last of all were a dozen hard- 
boiled eggs, and a layer of thick bread and but¬ 
ter sandwiched with corn-beef. Aunt Izzie 
had put up lunches for Paradise before, you 


Paradise 


21 


see, and knew pretty well what to expect in 
the way of appetite. 

Oh, how good everything tasted in that 
bower, with the fresh wind rustling the poplar 
leaves, sunshine and sweet wood-smells about 
them, and birds singing overhead! No grown¬ 
up dinner party ever had half so much fun. 
Each mouthful was a pleasure; and when the 
last crumb had vanished, Katy produced the 
second basket, and there, oh, delightful sur¬ 
prise ! were seven little pies — molasses pies, 
baked in saucers — each with a brown top and 
crisp candified edge, which tasted like toffy 
and lemon-peel, and all sorts of good things 
mixed up together. 

There was a general shout. Even demure 
Cecy was pleased, and Dorry and John kicked 
their heels on the ground in a tumult of joy. 
Seven pairs of hands were held out at once 
toward the basket; seven sets of teeth went to 
work without a moment’s delay. In an in¬ 
credibly short time every vestige of the pie 
had disappeared, and a blissful stickiness per¬ 
vaded the party. 

“What shall we do now?” asked Clover, 


22 


What Katy Did 

while little Phil tipped the baskets upside 
down, as if to make sure there was nothing 
left that could possibly be eaten. 

“ I don’t know,” replied Katy, dreamily. 
She had left her seat, and was half-sitting, 
half-lying on the low, crooked bough of a but¬ 
ternut tree, which hung almost over the chil¬ 
dren’s heads. 

“ Let’s play we’re grown up,” said Cecy, 
“ and tell what we mean to do.” 

“ Well,” said Clover, “ you begin. What 
do you mean to do? ” 

“ I mean to have a black silk dress, and 
pink roses in my bonnet, and a white muslin 
long-shawl,” said Cecy; “ and I mean to look 
exactly like Minerva Clark! I shall be very 
good, too; as good as Mrs. Bedell, only a great 
deal prettier. All the young gentlemen will 
want me to go and ride, but I sha’n’t notice 
them at all, because you know I shall always 
be teaching in Sunday-school, and visiting the 
poor. And some day, when I am bending over 
an old woman and feeding her with currant 
jelly, a poet will come along and see me, and 


Paradise 


23 

he’ll go home and write a poem about me,” 
concluded Cecy, triumphantly. 

“ Pooh! ” said Clover. “ I don’t think that 
would be nice at all. I’m going to be a beau¬ 
tiful lady — the most beautiful lady in the 
world! And I’m going to live in a yellow cas¬ 
tle, with yellow pillars to the portico, and a 
square thing on top, like Mr. Sawyer’s. My 
children are going to have a play-house up 
there. There’s going to be a spy-glass in the 
window, to look out of. I shall wear gold 
dresses and silver dresses every day, and dia¬ 
mond rings, and have white satin aprons to 
tie on when I’m dusting, or doing anything 
dirty. In the middle of my back-yard there 
will be a pond-full of Lubin’s Extracts, and 
whenever I want any I shall go just out and 
dip a bottle in. And I sha’n’t teach in Sunday- 
schools, like Cecy, because I don’t want to; 
but every Sunday I’ll go and stand by the 
gate, and when her scholars go by on their way 
home, I’ll put Lubin’s Extracts on their hand¬ 
kerchiefs.” 

“ I mean to have just the same,” cried Elsie, 
whose imagination was fired by this gorgeous 


24 


What Katy Did 

vision, “ only my pond will be the biggest. 1 
shall be a great deal beautifuller, too,” she 
added. 

“ You can’t,” said Katy from overhead. 
“ Clover is going to be the most beautiful lady 
in the world.” 

“ But I’ll be more beautiful than the most 
beautiful,” persisted poor little Elsie; “ and 
I’ll be big, too, and know everybody’s secrets. 
And everybody’ll be kind, then, and never run 
away and hide; and there won’t be any post- 
offices, or anything disagreeable.” 

“ What’ll you be, Johnnie? ” asked Clover, 
anxious to change the subject, for Elsie’s voice 
was growing plaintive. 

But Johnnie had no clear ideas as to her 
future. She laughed a great deal, and 
squeezed Dorry’s arm very tight, but that was 
all. Dorry was more explicit. 

“ I mean to have turkey every day,” he de¬ 
clared, “ and batter-puddings; not boiled 
ones, you know, but little baked ones, with 
brown shiny tops, and a great deal of pudding 
sauce to eat on them. And I shall be so big 


Paradise 


25 

then that nobody will say, ‘ Three helps is 
quite enough for a little boy. 5 ” 

“ Oh, Dorry, you pig! 55 cried Katy, while 
the others screamed with laughter. Dorry was 
much affronted. 

“ I shall just go and tell Aunt Izzie what 
you called me, 55 he said, getting up in a great 
pet. 

But Clover, who was a born peacemaker, 
caught hold of his arm, and her coaxings and 
entreaties consoled him so much that he finally 
said he would stay; especially as the others 
were quite grave now, and promised that they 
wouldn’t laugh any more. 

“ And now, Katy, it’s your turn,” said 
Cecy; “ tell us what you’re going to be when 
you grow up.” 

“ I’m not sure about what I’ll be,” replied 
Katy, from overhead; “ beautiful, of course, 
and good if I can, only not so good as you, 
Cecy, because it would be nice to go and ride 
with the young gentlemen sometimes . And I’d 
like to have a large house and a splendiferous 
garden, and then you could all come and live 
with me, and we would play in the garden, and 


26 


What Katy Did 

Dorry should have turkey five times a day if 
he liked. And we’d have a machine to darn 
the stockings, and another machine to put the 
bureau drawers in order, and we’d never sew 
or knit garters, or do anything we didn’t want 
to. That’s what I’d like to be. But now I’ll 
tell you what I mean to do” 

“ Isn’t it the same thing?” asked Cecy. 

“ Oh, no! ” replied Katy, “ quite different; 
for you see I mean to do something grand. I 
don’t know what, yet; but when I’m grown up 
I shall find out.” (Poor Katy always said 
“ when I’m grown up,” forgetting how very 
much she had grown already.) “ Perhaps,” 
she went on, “ it will be rowing out in boats, 
and saving peoples’ lives, like that girl in the 
book. Or perhaps I shall go and nurse in the 
hospital, like Miss Nightingale. Or else I’ll 
head a crusade and ride on a white horse, with 
armor and a helmet on my head, and carry a 
sacred flag. Or if I don’t do that, I’ll paint 
pictures, or sing, or scalp — sculp, — what is 
it? you know —make figures in marble. Any¬ 
how it shall be something. And when Aunt 
Izzie sees it, and reads about me in the news- 



( c 


If you won't tellsaid Katy , “ I'll let you see 
Dorry's journal." Page 2j. 







Paradise 


21 

papers, she will say, ‘ The dear child! I al¬ 
ways knew she would turn out an ornament 
to the family.’ People very often say, after¬ 
ward, that they ‘ always knew ’,” concluded 
Katy sagaciously. 

“ Oh, Katy! how beautiful it will be! ” said 
Clover, clasping her hands. Clover believed 
in Katy as she did in the Bible. 

“ I don’t believe the newspapers would be 
so silly as to print things about you, Katy 
Carr,” put in Elsie, vindictively. 

“Yes they will!” said Clover; and gave 
Elsie a push. 

By and by John and Dorry trotted away on 
mysterious errands of their own. 

“ Wasn’t Dorry funny with his turkey*? ” 
remarked Cecy; and they all laughed again. 

“ If you won’t tell,” said Katy, “ I’ll let 
you see Dorry’s journal. He kept it once for 
almost two weeks, and then gave it up. I 
found the book, this morning, in the nursery 
closet.” 

All of them promised, and Katy produced it 
from her pocket. It began thus: 


28 


What Katy Did 

“ March 12. — Have resolved to keep a jur- 
nal. 

March 13. — Had rost befe for diner, and 
cabage, and potato and appel sawse, and rice 
puding. I do not like rice puding when it is 
like ours. Charley Slack’s kind is rele good. 
Mush and sirup for tea. 

March 19. — Forgit what did. John and 
me saved our pie to take to schule. 

March 21. — Forgit what did. Gridel cakes 
for brekfast. Debby didn’t fry enuff. 

March 24. — This is Sunday. Corn befe 
for dinnir. Studdied my Bibel leson. Aunt 
Issy said I was gredy. Have resollved not to 
think so much about things to ete. Wish I 
was a beter boy. Nothing pertikeler for tea. 

March 25. — Forgit what did. 

March 27. — Forgit what did. 

March 29. — Played. 

March 31. — Forgit what did. 

April 1.— Have dissided not to kepe a jur- 
nal enny more.” 

Here ended the extracts; and it seemed as if 
only a minute had passed since they stopped 
laughing over them, before the long shadows 


Paradise 


29 


began to fall, and Mary came to say that all 
of them must come in to get ready for tea. It 
was dreadful to have to pick up the empty bas¬ 
kets and go home, feeling that the long, de¬ 
lightful Saturday was over, and that there 
wouldn’t be another for a week. But it was 
comforting to remember that Paradise was al¬ 
ways there; and that at any moment when 
Fate and Aunt Izzie were willing, they had 
only to climb a pair of bars — very easy ones, 
and without any fear of an angel with flaming 
sword to stop the way — enter in, and take 
possession of their Eden. 


CHAPTER III 


THE DAY OF SCRAPES 

Mrs, Knight’s school, to which Katy and 
Clover and Cecy went, stood quite at the other 
end of the town from Dr. Carr’s. It was a 
low, one-story building and had a yard behind 
it, in which the girls played at recess. Unfor¬ 
tunately, next door to it was Miss Miller’s 
school, equally large and popular, and with a 
yard behind it also. Only a high board fence 
separated the two playgrounds. 

Mrs. Knight was a stout, gentle woman, 
who moved slowly, and had a face which made 
you think of an amiable and well-disposed 
cow. Miss Miller, on the contrary, had black 
eyes, with black corkscrew curls waving about 
them, and was generally brisk and snappy. A 
constant feud raged between the two schools 
as to the respective merits of the teachers and 
the instruction. The Knight girls for some 
unknown reason, considered themselves gen- 


The Day of Scrapes 31 

teel and the Miller girls vulgar, and took no 
pains to conceal this opinion; while the Miller 
girls, on the other hand, retaliated by being as 
aggravating as they knew how. They spent 
their recesses and intermissions mostly in 
making faces through the knot-holes in the 
fence, and over the top of it when they could 
get there, which wasn’t an easy thing to do, 
as the fence was pretty high. The Knight girls 
could make faces too, for all their gentility. 
Their yard had one great advantage over the 
other: it possessed a wood-shed, with a climb- 
able roof, which commanded Miss Miller’s 
premises, and upon this the girls used to sit in 
rows, turning up their noses at the next yard, 
and irritating the foe by jeering remarks. 
“ Knights ” and “ Millerites,” the two schools 
called each other; and the feud raged so high, 
that sometimes it was hardly safe for a Knight 
to meet a Millerite in the street; all of which, 
as may be imagined, was exceedingly improv¬ 
ing both to the manners and morals of the 
young ladies concerned. 

One morning, not long after the day in 
Paradise, Katy was late. She could not find 


32 


What Katy Did 

her things. Her algebra, as she expressed it, 
had “ gone and lost itself,” her slate was miss¬ 
ing, and the string was off her sun-bonnet. She 
ran about, searching for these articles and 
banging doors, till Aunt Izzie was out of pa¬ 
tience. 

“ As for your algebra,” she said, “ if it is 
that very dirty book with only one cover, and 
scribbled all over the leaves, you will find it 
under the kitchen-table. Philly was playing 
before breakfast that it was a pig: no wonder, 
I’m sure, for it looks good for nothing else. 
How you do manage to spoil your school-books 
in this manner, Katy, I cannot imagine. It is 
less than a month since your father got you 
a new algebra, and look at it now — not fit to 
be carried about. I do wish you would realize 
what books cost! 

“ About your slate,” she went on, “ I know 
nothing; but here is the bonnet-string;” 
taking it out of her pocket. 

“ Oh, thank you! ” said Katy, hastily stick¬ 
ing it on with a pin. 

“ Katy Carr! ” almost screamed Miss Izzie, 
“ what are you about? Pinning on your bon- 


33 


The Day of Scrapes 

net-string! Mercy on me, what shiftless thing 
will you do next 1 ? Now stand still, and don’t 
fidget. You sha’n’t stir till I have sewed it 
on properly.” 

It wasn’t easy to “ stand still and not 
fidget,” with Aunt Izzie fussing away and lec¬ 
turing, and now and then, in a moment of for¬ 
getfulness, sticking her needle into one’s chin. 
Katy bore it as well as she could, only shifting 
perpetually from one foot to the other, and 
now and then uttering a little snort, like an 
impatient horse. The minute she was released 
she flew into the kitchen, seized the algebra, 
and rushed like a whirlwind to the gate, where 
good little Clover stood patiently waiting, 
though all ready herself, and terribly afraid 
she should be late. 

“We shall have to run,” gasped Katy, 
quite out of breath. “ Aunt Izzie kept me. 
She has been so horrid! ” 

They did run as fast as they could, but time 
ran faster, and before they were half-way to 
school the town clock struck nine, and all hope 
was over. This vexed Katy very much; for, 


34 What Katy Did 

though often late, she was always eager to be 
early. 

“ There,” she said, stopping short, “ I shall 
just tell Aunt Izzie that it was her fault. It 
is too bad.” And she marched into school in 
a very cross mood. 

A day begun in this manner is pretty sure to 
end badly, as most of us know. All the morn¬ 
ing through, things seemed to go wrong. Katy 
missed twice in her grammar lesson, and lost 
her place in the class. Her hand shook so 
when she copied her composition, that the 
writing, not good at best, turned out almost 
illegible, so that Mrs. Knight said it must all 
be done over again. This made Katy crosser 
than ever; and almost before she thought, she 
had whispered to Clover, a How hateful!” 
And then, when just before recess all who had 
“ communicated ” were requested to stand up, 
her conscience gave such a twinge that she was 
forced to get up with the rest, and see a black 
mark put against her name on the list. The 
tears came into her eyes from vexation; and, 
for fear the other girls would notice them, she 
made a bolt for the yard as soon as the bell 


The Day of Scrapes 35 

rang, and mounted up all alone to the wood- 
house roof, where she sat with her back to the 
school, fighting with her eyes, and trying to 
get. her face in order before the rest should 
come. 

Miss Miller’s clock was about four minutes 
slower than Mrs. Knight’s, so the next play¬ 
ground was empty. It was a warm, breezy 
day, and as Katy sat here, suddenly a gust of 
wind came, and seizing her sun-bonnet, which 
was only half tied on, whirled it across the 
roof. She clutched after it as it flew, but too 
late. Once, twice, thrice, it flapped, then it 
disappeared over the edge, and Katy, flying 
after, saw it lying a crumpled lilac heap in the 
very middle of the enemy’s yard. 

This was horrible! Not merely losing the 
bonnet, for Katy was comfortably indifferent 
as to what became of her clothes, but to lose 
it so. In another minute the Miller girls would 
be out. Already she seemed to see them 
dancing war-dances round the unfortunate 
bonnet, pinning it on a pole, using it as a foot¬ 
ball, waving it over the fence, and otherwise 
treating it as Indians treat a captive taken in 


36 What Katy Did 

war. Was it to be endured? Never! Better 
die first! And with very much the feeling of 
a person who faces destruction rather than for¬ 
feit honor, Katy set her teeth, and sliding rap¬ 
idly down the roof, seized the fence, and with 
one bold leap vaulted into Miss Miller’s yard. 

Just then the recess bell tinkled; and a little 
Millerite who sat by the window, and who, for 
two seconds, had been dying to give the ex¬ 
citing information, squeaked out to the others: 
“ There’s Katy Carr in our back-yard! ” 

Out poured the Millerites, big and little. 
Their wrath and indignation at this daring in¬ 
vasion cannot be described. With a howl of 
fury they precipitated themselves upon Katy, 
but she was quick as they, and holding the res¬ 
cued bonnet in her hand, was already half-way 
up the fence. 

There are moments when it is a fine thing 
to be tall. On this occasion Katy’s long legs 
and arms served her an excellent turn. Noth¬ 
ing but a Daddy Long Legs ever climbed so 
fast or so wildly as she did now. In one sec¬ 
ond she had gained the top of the fence. Just 


The Day of Scrapes 37 

as she went over a Millerite seized her by the 
last foot, and almost dragged her boot off. 

Almost, not quite, thanks to the stout thread 
with which Aunt Izzie had sewed on the but¬ 
tons. With a frantic kick Katy released her¬ 
self, and had the satisfaction of seeing her 
assailant go head over heels backward, while, 
with a shriek of triumph and fright, she her¬ 
self plunged headlong into the midst of a 
group of Knights. They were listening with 
open mouths to the uproar, and now stood 
transfixed at the astonishing spectacle of one 
of their number absolutely returning alive 
from the camp of the enemy. 

I cannot tell you what a commotion ensued. 
The Knights were beside themselves with 
pride and triumph. Katy was kissed and 
hugged, and made to tell her story over and 
over again, while rows of exulting girls sat on 
the wood-house roof to crow over the discom¬ 
fited Millerites: and when, later, the foe ral¬ 
lied and began to retort over the fence, Clover, 
armed with a tack-hammer, was lifted up in 
the arms of one of the tall girls to rap the in¬ 
truding knuckles as they appeared on the top. 


38 What Katy Did 

This she did with such good-will that the 
Millerites were glad to drop down again, and 
mutter vengeance at a safe distance. Alto¬ 
gether it was a great day for the school, a day 
to be remembered. As time went on, Katy, 
what with the excitement of her adventure, 
and of being praised and petted by the big 
girls, grew perfectly reckless, and hardly knew 
what she said or did. 

A good many of the scholars lived too far 
from school to go home at noon, and were in 
the habit of bringing their lunches in baskets, 
and staying all day. Katy and Clover were 
of this number. This noon, after the dinners 
were eaten, it was proposed that they should 
play something in the school-room, and Katy’s 
unlucky star put it into her head to invent a 
new game, which she called the Game of 
Rivers. 

It was played in the following manner: 
Each girl took the name of a river, and laid 
out for herself an appointed path through the 
room, winding among the desks and benches, 
and making a low, roaring sound, to imitate 
the noise of water. Cecy was the Platte, Mari- 


The Day of Scrapes 39 

anne Brooks, a tall girl, the Mississippi, Alice 
Blair, the Ohio, Clover, the Penobscot, and so 
on. They were instructed to run into each 
other once in a while, because, as Katy said, 
“ rivers do. 55 As for Katy herself, she was 
“ Father Ocean,” and, growling horribly, 
raged up and down the platform where Mrs. 
Knight usually sat. Every now and then, 
when the others were at the far end of the 
room, she would suddenly cry out, “ Now for 
a meeting of the waters! ” whereupon all 
the rivers bouncing, bounding, scrambling, 
screaming, would turn and run toward Father 
Ocean, while he roared louder than all of them 
put together, and made short rushes up and 
down, to represent the movement of waves 
on a beach. 

Such a noise as this beautiful game made 
was never heard in the town of Burnet before 
or since. It was like the bellowing of the bulls 
of Bashan, the squeaking of pigs, the cackle of 
turkey-cocks, and the laugh of wild hyenas all 
at once; and, in addition, there was a great 
banging of furniture and scraping of many 
feet on an uncarpeted floor. People going 


40 


What Katy Did 

by stopped and stared, children cried, an old 
lady asked why some one didn’t run for a po¬ 
liceman ; while the Miller girls listened to the 
proceedings with malicious pleasure, and told 
everybody that it was the noise that Mrs. 
Knight’s scholars “ usually made at recess.” 

Mrs. Knight coming back from dinner, was 
much amazed to see a crowd of people col¬ 
lected in front of her school. As she drew 
near, the sounds reached her, and then she 
became really frightened, for she thought 
somebody was being murdered on her prem¬ 
ises. Hurrying in, she threw open the door, 
and there, to her dismay, was the whole room 
in a frightful state of confusion and uproar: 
chairs flung down, desks upset, ink streaming 
on the floor; while in the midst of the ruin the 
frantic rivers raced and screamed, and old 
Father Ocean, with a face as red as fire, 
capered like a lunatic on the platform. 

“What does this mean? ” gasped poor Mrs. 
Knight, almost unable to speak for horror. 

At the sound of her voice the Rivers stood 
still, Father Ocean brought his prances to an 
abrupt close, and slunk down from the plat- 


4i 


The Day of Scrapes 

form. All of a sudden, each girl seemed to 
realize what a condition the room was in, and 
what a horrible thing she had done. The 
timid ones cowered behind their desks, the 
bold ones tried to look unconscious, and, to 
make matters worse, the scholars who had gone 
home to dinner began to return, staring at the 
scene of disaster, and asking, in whispers, what 
had been going on? 

Mrs. Knight rang the bell. When the school 
had come to order, she had the desks and 
chairs picked up, while she herself brought 
wet cloths to sop the ink from the floor. This 
was done in profound silence; and the expres¬ 
sion of Mrs. Knight’s face was so direful and 
solemn, that a fresh damp fell upon the spirits 
of the guilty Rivers, and Father Ocean wished 
himself thousands of miles away. 

When all was in order again, and the girls 
had taken their seats, Mrs. Knight made a 
short speech. She said she never was so 
shocked in her life before; she had supposed 
that she could trust them to behave like ladies 
when her back was turned. The idea that 
they could act so disgracefully, make such an 


42 


What Katy Did 

uproar and alarm people going by, had never 
occurred to her, and she was deeply pained. 
It was setting a bad example to all the neigh¬ 
borhood — by which Mrs. Knight meant the 
rival school, Miss Miller having just sent over 
a little girl, with her compliments, to ask if 
any one was hurt, and could she do any¬ 
thing? which was naturally aggravating! 
Mrs. Knight hoped they were sorry; she 
thought they must be — sorry and ashamed. 
The exercises could now go on as usual. Of 
course some punishment would be inflicted for 
the offense, but she should have to reflect be¬ 
fore deciding what it ought to be. Meantime 
she wanted them all to think it over seriously; 
and if any one felt that she was more to blame 
than the others, now was the moment to rise 
and confess it. 

Katy’s heart gave a great thump, but she 
rose bravely: “ I made up the game, and I 
was Father Ocean/ 5 she said to the aston¬ 
ished Mrs. Knight, who glared at her for a 
minute, and then replied solemnly: “Very 
well, Katy — sit down; 55 which Katy did, 
feeling more ashamed than ever, but somehow 


The Day of Scrapes 43 

relieved in her mind. There is a saving grace 
in truth which helps truth-tellers through the 
worst of their troubles, and Katy found this 
out now. 

The afternoon was long and hard. Mrs. 
Knight did not smile once; the lessons 
dragged; and Katy, after the heat and excite¬ 
ment of the forenoon, began to feel miserable. 
She had received more than one hard blow 
during the meetings of the waters, and had 
bruised herself almost without knowing it, 
against the desks and chairs. All these places 
now began to ache: her head throbbed so that 
she could hardly see, and a lump of something 
heavy seemed to be lying on her heart. 

When school was over, Mrs. Knight rose 
and said, “ The young ladies who took part in 
the game this afternoon are requested to re¬ 
main.” All the others went away, and shut 
the door behind them. It was a horrible mo¬ 
ment : the girls never forgot it, or the hopeless 
sound of the door as the last departing scholar 
clapped it after her as she left. 

I can’t begin to tell you what it was that 
Mrs. Knight said to them: it was very affect- 


44 What Katy Did 

ing, and before long most of the girls began to 
cry. The penalty for their offense was an¬ 
nounced to be the loss of recess for three 
weeks; but that wasn’t half so bad as seeing 
Mrs. Knight so “ religious and afflicted,” as 
Cecy told her mother afterward. One by one 
the sobbing sinners departed from the school¬ 
room. When most of them were gone, Mrs. 
Knight called Katy up to the platform, and 
said a few words to her specially. She was 
not really severe, but Katy was too penitent 
and worn out to bear much, and before long 
was weeping like a water-spout, or like the 
ocean she had pretended to be. 

At this, tender-hearted Mrs. Knight was so 
much affected that she let her off at once, and 
even kissed her in token of forgiveness, which 
made poor Ocean sob harder than ever. All 
the way home she sobbed; faithful little Clo¬ 
ver, running along by her side in great dis¬ 
tress, begging her to stop crying, and trying 
in vain to hold up the fragments of her dress, 
which was torn in, at least, a dozen places. 
Katy could not stop crying, and it was fortu¬ 
nate that Aunt Izzie happened to be out, and 


The Day of Scrapes 45 

that the only person who saw her in this 
piteous plight was Mary, the nurse, who doted 
on the children, and was always ready to help 
them out of their troubles. 

On this occasion she petted and cosseted 
Katy exactly as if it had been Johnnie or little 
Phil. She took her on her lap, bathed the hot 
head, brushed the hair, put arnica on the 
bruises, and produced a clean frock, so that 
by tea-time the poor child, except for her red 
eyes, looked like herself again, and Aunt Izzie 
didn’t notice anything unusual. 

For a wonder, Dr. Carr was at home that 
evening. It was always a great treat to the 
children when this happened, and Katy 
thought herself happy when, after the little 
ones had gone to bed, she got Papa to herself, 
and told him the whole story. 

“ Papa,” she said, sitting on his knee, which, 
big girl as she was, she liked very much to do, 
“ what is the reason that makes some days so 
lucky and other days so unlucky? Now to¬ 
day began all wrong, and everything that hap¬ 
pened in it was wrong, and on other days I 
begin right, and all goes right, straight 


46 What Katy Did 

through. If Aunt Izzie hadn’t kept me in the 
morning, I shouldn’t have lost my mark, and 
then I shouldn’t have been cross, and then 
perhaps I shouldn’t have got in my other 
scrapes.” 

“ But what made Aunt Izzie keep you, 
Katy? ” 

“ To sew on the string of my bonnet, Papa.” 

“ But how did it happen that the string was 
off?” 

“ Well,” said Katy, reluctantly, “ I am 
afraid that was my fault, for it came off on 
Tuesday, and I didn’t fasten it on.” 

“ So you see we must go back of Aunt Izzie 
for the beginning of this unlucky day of yours, 
Childie. Did you ever hear the old saying 
about, ‘ For the want of a nail the shoe was 
lost’?” 

“ No, never — tell it to me! ” cried Katy, 
who loved stories as well as when she was 
three years old. 

So Dr. Carr repeated — 

“ For the want of a nail the shoe was lost, 

For the want of a shoe the horse was lost, 

For the want of a horse the rider was lost, 


47 


The Day of Scrapes 

For the want of a rider the battle was lost, 

For the want of a battle the kingdom was lost, 
And all for want of a horse-shoe nail.” 

“ Oh, Papa! 55 exclaimed Katy, giving him 
a great hug as she got off his knee, “ I see what 
you mean! Who would have thought such a 
little speck of a thing as not sewing on my 
string could make a difference? But I don’t 
believe I shall get in any more scrapes, for 
I sha’n’t ever forget — 

“ ‘ For the want of a nail the shoe was lost . 5 55 


CHAPTER IV 


KIKERI 

But I am sorry to say that my poor, thought¬ 
less Katy did forget, and did get into another 
scrape, and that no later than the very next 
Monday. 

Monday was apt to be rather a stormy day 
at the Carrs 5 . There was the big wash to be 
done, and Aunt Izzie always seemed a little 
harder to please, and the servants a good deal 
crosser than on common days. But I think it 
was also, in part, the fault of the children, 
who, after the quiet of Sunday, were specially 
frisky and uproarious, and readier than usual 
for all sorts of mischief. 

To Clover and Elsie, Sunday seemed to 
begin at Saturday’s bed-time, when their hair 
was wet, and screwed up in papers, that it 
might curl next day. Elsie’s waved naturally, 
so Aunt Izzie didn’t think it necessary to pin 
her papers very tight; but Clover’s thick, 


Kikeri 


49 

straight locks required to be pinched hard be¬ 
fore they would give even the least twirl, and 
to her, Saturday night was one of misery. She 
would lie tossing, and turning, and trying 
first one side of her head and then the other; 
but whichever way she placed herself, the hard 
knobs and the pins stuck out and hurt her; so 
when at last she fell asleep, it was face down, 
with her small nose buried in the pillow, which 
was not comfortable, and gave her bad dreams. 
In consequence of these sufferings Clover 
hated curls, and when she “ made up ” stories 
for the younger children, they always com¬ 
menced: “ The hair of the beautiful princess 
was as straight as a yard-stick, and she never 
did it up in papers — never! ” 

Sunday always began with a Bible story, 
followed by a breakfast of baked beans, which 
two things were much tangled up together in 
Philly’s mind. After breakfast the children 
studied their Sunday-school lessons, and then 
the big carryall came round, and they drove 
to church, which was a good mile off. It was a 
large, old-fashioned church, with galleries, 
and long pews with high red-cushioned seats. 


50 


What Katy Did 

The choir sat at the end, behind a low, green 
curtain, which slipped from side to side on 
rods. When the sermon began, they would 
draw the curtain aside and show themselves, 
all ready to listen, but the rest of the time 
they kept it shut. Katy always guessed that 
they must be having good times behind the 
green curtain — eating orange-peel, perhaps, 
or reading the Sunday-school books — and she 
often wished she might sit up there among 
them. 

The seat in Dr. Carr’s pew was so high that 
none of the children, except Katy, could touch 
the floor, even with the point of a toe. This 
made their feet go to sleep; and when they felt 
the queer little pin-pricks which drowsy feet 
use to rouse themselves with, they would slide 
off the seat, and sit on the benches to get over 
it. Once there, and well hidden from view, 
it was almost impossible not to whisper. Aunt 
Izzie would frown and shake her head, but it 
did little good, especially as Phil and Dorry 
were sleeping with their heads on her lap, and 
it took both her hands to keep them from roll¬ 
ing off into the bottom of the pew. When good 


Kikeri 


51 


old Dr. Stone said, “ Finally, my brethren,” 
she would begin waking them up. It was 
hard work sometimes, but generally she suc¬ 
ceeded, so that during the last hymn the two 
stood together on the seat, quite brisk and re¬ 
freshed, sharing a hymn-book, and making be¬ 
lieve to sing like the older people. 

After church came Sunday-school, which the 
children liked very much, and then they went 
home to dinner, which was always the same on 
Sunday — cold corned-beef, baked potatoes, 
and rice pudding. They did not go to church 
in the afternoon unless they wished, but were 
pounced upon by Katy instead, and forced to 
listen to the reading of The Sunday Visitor , 
a religious paper, of which she was the editor. 
This paper was partly written, partly printed, 
on a large sheet of foolscap, and had at the 
top an ornamental device, in lead pencil, with 
“ Sunday Visitor ” in the middle of it. The 
reading part began with a dull little piece of 
the kind which grown people call an editorial, 
about “ Neatness,” or “ Obedience,” or 
“ Punctuality.” The children always fidgeted 
when listening to this, partly, I think, because 


52 


What Katy Did 

it aggravated them to have Katy recommend¬ 
ing on paper, as very easy, the virtues which 
she herself found it so hard to practise in real 
life. Next came anecdotes about dogs and 
elephants and snakes, taken from the Natural 
History book, and not very interesting, be¬ 
cause the audience knew them by heart al¬ 
ready. A hymn or two followed, or a string 
of original verses, and, last of all, a chapter 
of “ Little Maria and Her Sisters,” a dreadful 
tale, in which Katy drew so much moral, and 
made such personal allusions to the faults of 
the rest, that it was almost more than they 
could bear. In fact, there had just been a 
nursery rebellion on the subject. You must 
know that, for some weeks back, Katy had 
been too lazy to prepare any fresh Sunday 
Visitors , and so had forced the children to sit 
in a row and listen to the back numbers, which 
she read aloud from the very beginning! 
“ Little Maria” sounded much worse when 
taken in these large doses, and Clover and 
Elsie, combining for once, made up their 
minds to endure it no longer. So, watching 
their chance, they carried off the whole 


Kikeri 


53 

edition, and poked it into the kitchen fire, 
where they watched it burn with a mixture of 
fear and delight which- it was comical to wit¬ 
ness. They dared not confess the deed, but it 
was impossible not to look conscious when 
Katy was flying about and rummaging after 
her lost treasure, and she suspected them, and 
was very irate in consequence. 

The evenings of Sunday were always spent 
in repeating hymns to Papa and Aunt Izzie. 
This was fun, for they all took turns, and there 
was quite a scramble as to who should secure 
the favorites, such as, “ The west hath shut its 
gate of gold,” and “ Go when the morning 
shineth.” On the whole, Sunday was a sweet 
and pleasant day, and the children thought 
so; but, from its being so much quieter than 
other days, they always got up on Monday full 
of life and mischief, and ready to fizz over at 
any minute, like champagne bottles with the 
wires just cut. 

This particular Monday was rainy, so there 
couldn’t be any out-door play, which was the 
usual vent for over-high spirits. The little 
ones, cooped up in the nursery all the after- 


54 


What Katy Did 

noon, had grown perfectly riotous. Philly was 
not quite well, and had been taking medicine. 
The medicine was called Elixir Pro . It was 
a great favorite with Aunt Izzie, who kept a 
bottle of it always on hand. The bottle was 
large and black, with a paper label tied round 
its neck, and the children shuddered at the 
sight of it. 

After Phil had stopped roaring and splut¬ 
tering, and play had begun again, the dolls, 
as was only natural, were taken ill also, and 
so was “ Pikery,” John’s little yellow chair, 
which she always pretended was a doll too. 
She kept an old apron tied on his back, and 
generally took him to bed with her — not into 
bed, that would have been troublesome; but 
close by, tied to the bed-post. Now, as she 
told the others, Pikery was very sick indeed. 
He must have some medicine, just like Philly. 

“ Give him some water,” suggested Dorry. 

“No,” said John, decidedly, “ it must be 
black and out of a bottle, or it won’t do any 
good.” 

After thinking a moment, she trotted 
quietly across the passage into Aunt Izzie’s 


Kikeri 


55 


room. Nobody was there, but John knew 
where the Elixir Pro was kept — in the closet 
on the third shelf. She pulled one of the draw¬ 
ers out a little, climbed up, and reached it 
down. The children were enchanted when 
she marched back, the bottle in one hand, the 
cork in the other, and proceeded to pour a lib¬ 
eral dose on to Pikery’s wooden seat, which 
John called his lap. 

“ There! there! my poor boy,” she said, pat¬ 
ting his shoulder — I mean his arm — “ swal¬ 
low it down — it’ll do you good.” 

Just then Aunt Izzie came in, and to her 
dismay saw a long trickle of something dark 
and sticky running down on to the carpet. It 
was Pikery’s medicine, which he had refused 
to swallow. 

“ What is that*? ” she asked sharply. 

“ My baby is sick,” faltered John, display¬ 
ing the guilty bottle. 

Aunt Izzie rapped her over the head with a 
thimble, and told her that she was a very 
naughty child, whereupon Johnnie pouted, 
and cried a little. Aunt Izzie wiped up the 
slop, and taking away the Elixir, retired with 


56 What Katy Did 

it to her closet, saying that she “ never knew 
anything like it — it was always so on Mon¬ 
days . 55 

What further pranks were played in the 
nursery that day, I cannot pretend to tell. 
But late in the afternoon a dreadful scream¬ 
ing was heard, and when people rushed from 
all parts of the house to see what was the mat¬ 
ter, behold the nursery door was locked, and 
nobody could get in. Aunt Izzie called 
through the keyhole to have it opened, but the 
roars were so loud that it was long before she 
could get an answer. At last Elsie, sobbing 
violently, explained that Dorry had locked the 
door, and now the key wouldn’t turn, and they 
couldn’t open it. Would they have to stay 
there always, and starve? 

“ Of course you won’t, you foolish child , 55 
exclaimed Aunt Izzie. “ Dear, dear, what on 
earth will come next? Stop crying, Elsie 
— do you hear me? You shall all be got out 
in a few minutes.” 

And sure enough, the next thing came a rat¬ 
tling at the blinds, and there was Alexander, 
the hired man, standing outside on a tall lad- 



There was Alexander , the hired man , standing outside 
on a tall ladder . Page 56. 

































Kikeri 


57 

der and nodding his head at the children. The 
little ones forgot their fright. They flew to 
open the window, and frisked and jumped 
about Alexander as he climbed in and un¬ 
locked the door. It struck them as being such 
a fine thing to be let out in this way, that 
Dorry began to rather plume himself for fas¬ 
tening them in. 

But Aunt Izzie didn’t take this view of the 
case. She scolded them well, and declared 
they were troublesome children, who couldn’t 
be trusted one moment out of sight, and that 
she was more than half sorry she had prom¬ 
ised to go to the Lecture that evening. “ How 
do I know,” she concluded, “ that before I 
come home you won’t have set the house on 
fire, or killed somebody? ” 

“ Oh, no we won’t! no we won’t! ” whined 
the children, quite moved by this frightful pic¬ 
ture. But bless you — ten minutes afterward 
they had forgotten all about it. 

All this time Katy had been sitting on the 
ledge of the bookcase in the Library, poring 
over a book. It was called Tasso’s Jerusalem 
Delivered. The man who wrote it was an 


58 What Katy Did 

Italian, but somebody had done the story over 
into English. It was rather a queer book for a 
little girl to take a fancy to, but somehow 
Katy liked it very much. It told about 
knights, and ladies, and giants, and battles, 
and made her feel hot and cold by turns as 
she read, and as if she must rush at something, 
and shout, and strike blows. Katy was nat¬ 
urally fond of reading. Papa encouraged it. 
He kept a few books locked up, and then 
turned her loose in the Library. She read all 
sorts of things: travels, and sermons, and old 
magazines. Nothing was so dull that she 
couldn't get through with it. Anything really 
interesting absorbed her so that she never 
knew what was going on about her. The little 
girls to whose houses she went visiting had 
found this out, and always hid away their 
story-books when she was expected to tea. If 
they didn’t do this, she was sure to pick one up 
and plunge in, and then it was no use to call 
her, or tug at her dress, for she neither saw nor 
heard anything more, till it was time to go 
home. 

This afternoon she read the Jerusalem till 


Kikeri 


59 

it was too dark to see any more. On her way 
up stairs she met Aunt Izzie, with bonnet and 
shawl on. 

“ Where have you been?” she said. “ I 
have been calling you for the last half-hour.” 

“ I didn’t hear you, ma’am.” 

“ But where were you?” persisted Miss 
Izzie. 

“ In the Library, reading,” replied Katy. 

Her aunt gave a sort of sniff, but she knew 
Katy’s ways, and said no more. 

“ I’m going out to drink tea with Mrs. Hall 
and attend the evening Lecture,” she went 
on. “ Be sure that Clover gets her lesson, and 
if Cecy comes over as usual, you must send 
her home early. All of you must be in bed 
by nine.” 

“ Yes’m,” said Katy, but I fear she was not 
attending much, but thinking, in her secret 
soul, how jolly it was to have Aunt Izzie go 
out for once. Miss Carr was very faithful to 
her duties: she seldom left the children, even 
for an evening, so whenever she did, they felt 
a certain sense of novelty and freedom, which 
was dangerous as well as pleasant. 


6o 


What Katy Did 

Still, I am sure that on this occasion Katy 
meant no mischief. Like all excitable people, 
she seldom did mean to do wrong, she just did 
it when it came into her head. Supper passed 
off successfully, and all might have gone well, 
had it not been that after the lessons were 
learned and Cecy had come in, they fell to 
talking about “ Kikeri.” 

Kikeri was a game which had been very pop¬ 
ular with them a year before. They had in¬ 
vented it themselves, and chosen for it this 
queer name out of an old fairy story. It was 
a sort of mixture of Blindman’s Buff and Tag 
— only instead of any one’s eyes being band¬ 
aged, they all played in the dark. One of the 
children would stay out in the hall, which was 
dimly lighted from the stairs, while the others 
hid themselves in the nursery. When they 
were all hidden, they would call out “ Kikeri,” 
as a signal for the one in the hall to come in 
and find them. Of course, coming from the 
light he could see nothing, while the others 
could see only dimly. It was very exciting to 
stand crouching up in a corner and watch the 
dark figure stumbling about and feeling to 


Kikeri 


61 


right and left, while every now and then some¬ 
body, just escaping his clutches, would slip 
past and gain the hall, which was “ Freedom 
Castle , 55 with a joyful shout of “ Kikeri, 
Kikeri, Kikeri, Ki! Whoever was caught 
had to take the place of the catcher. For a 
long time this game was the delight of the Carr 
children; but so many scratches and black-and- 
blue spots came of it, and so many of the 
nursery things were thrown down and broken, 
that at last Aunt Izzie issued an order that it 
should not be played any more. This was 
almost a year since; but talking of it now put 
it into their heads to want to try it again. 

“ After all we didn’t promise , 55 said Cecy. 

“ No, and Papa never said a word about 
our not playing it , 55 added Katy, to whom 
“ Papa 55 was authority, and must always be 
minded, while Aunt Izzie might now and then 
be defied. 

So they all went up stairs. Dorry and John, 
though half undressed, were allowed to join 
the game. Philly was fast asleep in another 
room. 

It was certainly splendid fun. Once Clover 


62 


What Katy Did 

climbed up on the mantel-piece and sat there, 
and when Katy, who was finder, groped about 
a little more wildly than usual, she caught 
hold of Clover’s foot, and couldn’t imagine 
where it came from. Dorry got a hard knock, 
and cried, and at another time Katy’s dress 
caught on the bureau handle and was fright¬ 
fully torn, but these were too much affairs of 
every day to interfere in the least with the 
pleasures of Kikeri. The fun and frolic 
seemed to grow greater the longer they played. 
In the excitement, time went on much faster 
than any of them dreamed. Suddenly, in the 
midst of the noise, came a sound — the sharp 
distinct slam of the carryall-door at the side 
entrance. Aunt Izzie had returned from her 
Lecture. 

The dismay and confusion of that moment! 
Cecy slipped down stairs like an eel, and fled 
on the wings of fear along the path which led 
to her home. Mrs. Hall, as she bade Aunt 
Izzie good-night, and shut Dr. Carr’s front 
door behind her with a bang, might have been 
struck with the singular fact that a distant 
bang came from her own front door like a sort 


Kikeri 


63 

of echo. But she was not a suspicious woman; 
and when she went up stairs there were Cecy’s 
clothes neatly folded on a chair, and Cecy her¬ 
self in bed, fast asleep, only with a little more 
color than usual in her cheeks. 

Meantime, Aunt Izzie was on her way up 
stairs, and such a panic as prevailed in the 
nursery! Katie felt it, and basely scuttled 
off to her own room, where she went to bed 
with all possible speed. But the others found 
it much harder to go to bed; there were so 
many of them, all getting into each others 
way, and with no lamp to see by. Dorry and 
John popped under the clothes half undressed, 
Elsie disappeared, and Clover, too late for 
either, and hearing Aunt Izzie’s step in the 
hall, did this horrible thing — fell on her 
knees, with her face buried in a chair, and 
began to say her prayers very hard indeed. 

Aunt Izzie, coming in with a candle in her 
hand, stood in the doorway, astonished at the 
spectacle. She sat down and waited for Clover 
to get through, while Clover, on her part, 
didn’t dare to get through, but went on repeat¬ 
ing “ Now I lay me ” over and over again, in 


64 What Katy Did 

a sort of despair. At last Aunt Izzie said very 
grimly: “ That will do, Clover, you can get 
up ! 55 and Clover rose, feeling like a culprit, 
which she was, for it was much naughtier to 
pretend to be praying than to disobey Aunt 
Izzie and be out of bed after ten o’clock, 
though I think Clover hardly understood this 
then. 

Aunt Izzie at once began to undress her, and 
while doing so asked so many questions, that 
before long she had got at the truth of the 
whole matter. She gave Clover a sharp scold¬ 
ing, and leaving her to wash her tearful face, 
she went to the bed where John and Dorry lay, 
fast asleep, and snoring as conspicuously as 
they knew how. Something strange in the ap¬ 
pearance of the .bed made her look more 
closely: she lifted the clothes, and there, sure 
enough, they were — half dressed, and with 
their school-boots on. 

Such a shake as Aunt Izzie gave the little 
scamps at this discovery, would have roused 
a couple of dormice. Much against their will, 
John and Dorry were forced to wake up, and 
be slapped and scolded, and made ready for 


Kikeri 


65 

bed, Aunt Izzie standing over them all the 
while, like a dragon. She had just tucked them 
warmly in, when for the first time she missed 
Elsie. 

“ Where is my poor little Elsie?” she ex¬ 
claimed. 

“ In bed,” said Clover, meekly. 

“ In bed! ” repeated Aunt Izzie, much 
amazed. Then stooping down, she gave a 
vigorous pull. The trundle-bed came into 
view, and sure enough, there was Elsie, in full 
dress, shoes and all, but so fast asleep that not 
all Aunt Izzie’s shakes, and pinches, and calls, 
were able to rouse her. Her clothes were taken 
off, her boots unlaced, her night-gown put on; 
but through it all Elsie slept, and she was the 
only one of the children who did not get the 
scolding she deserved that dreadful night. 

Katy did not even pretend to be asleep 
when Aunt Izzie went to her room. Her tardy 
conscience had waked up, and she was lying 
in bed, very miserable at having drawn the 
others into a scrape as well as herself, and at 
the failure of her last set of resolutions about 
“ setting an example to the younger ones.” 


66 


What Katy Did 

So unhappy was she, that Aunt Izzie’s severe 
words were almost a relief; and though she 
cried herself to sleep, it was rather from the 
burden of her own thoughts than because she 
had been scolded. 

She cried even harder the next day, for Dr. 
Carr talked to her more seriously than he had 
ever done before. He reminded her of the 
time when her Mamma died, and of how she 
said, “ Katy must be a Mamma to the little 
ones, when she grows up.” And he asked her 
if she didn’t think the time was come for be¬ 
ginning to take this dear place towards the 
children. Poor Katy! She sobbed as if her 
heart would break at this, and though she 
made no promises, I think she was never quite 
so thoughtless again, after that day. As for 
the rest, Papa called them together and made 
them distinctly understand that “ Kikeri ” 
was never to be played any more. It was so 
seldom that Papa forbade any games, however 
boisterous, that this order really made an im¬ 
pression on the unruly brood, and they never 
have played Kikeri again, from that day to 
this. 


CHAPTER V 


IN THE LOFT 

“ I declare,” said Miss Petingill, laying 
down her work, “ if them children don’t beat 
all! What on airth are the going to do now? ” 

Miss Petingill was sitting in the little room 
in the back building, which she always had 
when she came to the Carr’s for a week’s 
mending and making over. She was the dear¬ 
est, funniest old woman who ever went out 
sewing by the day. Her face was round, and 
somehow made you think of a very nice baked 
apple, it was so criss-crossed, and lined by a 
thousand good-natured puckers. She was 
small and wiry, and wore caps and a false 
front, which was just the color of a dusty New¬ 
foundland dog’s back. Her eyes were dim, 
and she used spectacles; but for all that, she 
was an excellent worker. Every one liked 
Miss Petingill though Aunt Izzie did once say 


68 


What Katy Did 

that her tongue “ was hung in the middle.” 
Aunt Izzie made this remark when she was in 
a temper, and was by no means prepared to 
have Phil walk up at once and request Miss 
Petingill to stick it out,” which she oblig¬ 
ingly did; while the rest of the children 
crowded to look. They couldn’t see that it 
was different from other tongues, but Philly 
persisted in finding something curious about 
it; there must be, you know — since it was 
hung in that queer way! 

Wherever Miss Petingill went, all sorts of 
treasures went with her. The children liked 
to have her come, for it was as good as a fairy 
story, or the circus, to see her things unpacked. 
Miss Petingill was very much afraid of bur¬ 
glars; she lay awake half the night listening 
for them and nothing on earth would have 
persuaded her to go anywhere, leaving behind 
what she called her “ Plate.” This stately 
word meant six old teaspoons, very thin and 
bright and sharp, and a butter-knife, whose 
handle set forth that it was “ A testimonial of 
gratitude, for saving the life of Ithuriel Job- 
son, aged seven, on the occasion of his being 


In the Loft 69 

attacked with quinsy sore throat.” Miss Pet- 
ingill was very proud of her knife. It and the 
spoons travelled about in a little basket which 
hung on her arm, and was never allowed to be 
out of her sight, even when the family she 
was sewing for were the honestest people in 
the world. 

Then, beside the plate-basket, Miss Petin- 
gill never stirred without Tom, her tortoise¬ 
shell cat. Tom was a beauty, and knew his 
power; he ruled Miss Petingill with a rod of 
iron, and always sat in the rocking-chair when 
there was one. It was no matter where she 
sat, Miss Petingill told people, but Tom was 
delicate, and must be made comfortable. A 
big family Bible always came too, and a 
special red merino pin-cushion, and some 
“ shade pictures ” of old Mr. and Mrs. Petin¬ 
gill and Peter Petingill, who was drowned at 
sea; and photographs of Mrs. Porter, who 
used to be Marcia Petingill, and Mrs. Porter’s 
husband, and all the Porter children. Many 
little boxes and jars came also, and a long 
row of phials and bottles, filled with home¬ 
made physic and herb teas. Miss Petingill 


70 


What Katy Did 

could not have slept without having them be¬ 
side her, for, as she said, how did she know 
that she might not be “took sudden ” with 
something, and die for want of a little ginger- 
balsam or pennyroyal? 

The Carr children always made so much 
noise, that it required something unusual to 
make Miss Petingill drop her work, as she did 
now, and fly to the window. In fact there was 
a tremendous hubbub: hurrahs from Dorry, 
stamping of feet, and a great outcry of shrill, 
glad voices. Looking down, Miss Petingill 
saw the whole six — no, seven, for Cecy was 
there too — stream out of the wood-house door 
— which wasn’t a door, but only a tall open 
arch —and rush noisily across the yard. Katy 
was at the head, bearing a large black bottle 
without any cork in it, while the others car¬ 
ried in each hand what seemed to be a cookie. 

“Katherine Carr! Kather -ine!” screamed 
Miss Petingill, tapping loudly on the glass. 
“ Don’t you see that it’s raining? you ought 
to be ashamed to let your little brothers and 
sisters go out and get wet in such a way! ” 
But nobody heard her, and the children van- 


7 i 


In the Loft 

ished into the shed, where nothing could be 
seen but a distant flapping of pantalettes and 
frilled trousers, going up what seemed to be a 
ladder, farther back in the shed. So, with a 
dissatisfied cluck, Miss Petingill drew back 
her head, perched the spectacles on her nose, 
and went to work again on Katy’s plaid al¬ 
paca, which had two immense zigzag rents 
across the middle of the front breadth. Katy’s 
frocks, strange to say, always tore exactly in 
that place! 

If Miss Petingill’s eyes could have reached 
a little farther, they would have seen that it 
wasn’t a ladder up which the children were 
climbing, but a tall wooden post, with spikes 
driven into it about a foot apart. It required 
quite a stride to get from one spike to the 
other; in fact the littler ones couldn’t have 
managed it at all, had it not been for Clover 
and Cecy “ boosting ” very hard from below, 
while Katy, making a long arm, clawed from 
above. At last they were all safely up, and in 
the delightful retreat which I am about to de¬ 
scribe : 

Imagine a low, dark loft without any win- 


72 What Katy Did 

dows, and with only a very little light coming 
in through the square hole in the floor, to 
which the spikey post led. There was a strong 
smell of corn-cobs, though the corn had been 
taken away, a great deal of dust and spider¬ 
web in the corners, and some wet spots on the 
boards; for the roof always leaked a little in 
rainy weather. 

This was the place, which for some reason 
I have never been able to find out, the Carr 
children preferred to any other on rainy Sat¬ 
urdays, when they could not play out-doors. 
Aunt Izzie was as much puzzled at this fancy 
as I am. When she was young (a vague, far- 
off time, which none of her nieces and nephews 
believed in much), she had never had any of 
these queer notions about getting off into holes 
and corners, and poke-away places. Aunt 
Izzie would gladly have forbidden them to go 
the loft, but Dr. Carr had given his permission, 
so all she could do was to invent stories about 
children who had broken their bones in various 
dreadful ways, by climbing posts and ladders. 
But these stories made no impression on any 
of the children except little Phil, and the self- 


In the Loft 73 

willed brood kept on their way, and climbed 
their spiked post as often as they liked. 

“ What’s in the bottle? ” demanded Dorry, 
the minute he was fairly landed in the loft. 

“ Don’t be greedy,” replied Katy, severely; 
“ you will know when the time comes. It is 
something delicious , I can assure you. 

“ Now,” she went on, having thus quenched 
Dorry, “ all of you had better give me your 
cookies to put away: if you don’t, they’ll be 
sure to be eaten up before the feast, and then 
you know there wouldn’t be anything to make 
a feast of.” 

So all of them handed over their cookies. 
Dorry, who had begun on his as he came up the 
ladder, was a little unwilling, but he was too 
much in the habit of minding Katy to dare to 
disobey. The big bottle was set in a corner, 
and a stack of cookies built up around it. 

“ That’s right,” proceeded Katy, who, as 
oldest and biggest, always took the lead in 
their plays. “ Now if we’re fixed and ready 
to begin, the Fete (Katy pronounced it Feet ) 
can commence. The opening exercise will be 
‘ A Tragedy of the Alhambra,’ by Miss Hall.” 


74 


What Katy Did 

“ No/’ cried Clover; “ first‘ The Blue Wiz¬ 
ard, or Edwitha of the Hebrides,’ you know, 
Katy.” 

“ Didn’t I tell you? ” said Katy; “ a dread¬ 
ful accident has happened to that.” 

“ Oh, what? ” cried all the rest, for Edwitha 
was rather a favorite with the family. It was 
one of the many serial stories which Katy was 
forever writing, and was about a lady, a 
knight, a blue wizard, and a poodle named 
Bop. It had been going on so many months 
now, that everybody had forgotten the begin¬ 
ning, and nobody had any particular hope of 
living to hear the end, but still the news of its 
untimely fate was a shock. 

“ I’ll tell you,” said Katy. “ Old Judge 
Kirby called this morning to see Aunt Izzie; 
I was studying in the little room, but I saw 
him come in, and pull out the big chair and 
sit down, and I almost screamed out c don’t! ’ ” 

“ Why? ” cried the children. 

“ Don’t you see? I had stuffed £ Edwitha ’ 
down between the back and the seat. It was a 
beautiful hiding-place, for the seat goes back 
ever so far; but Edwitha was such a fat bun- 


I'm the Loft 75 

die, and old Judge Kirby takes up so much 
room, that I was afraid there would be trouble. 
And sure enough, he had hardly dropped down 
before there was a great crackling of paper, 
and he jumped up again and called out, ‘ Bless 
me! what is that? ’ And then he began pok¬ 
ing, and poking, and just as he had poked out 
the whole bundle, and was putting on his spec¬ 
tacles to see what it was, Aunt Izzie came in.” 

“ Well, what next? ” cried the children, im¬ 
mensely tickled. 

“ Oh! ” continued Katy, “ Aunt Izzie put 
on her glasses too, and screwed up her eyes — 
you know the way she does, and she and the 
judge read a little bit of it; that part at the 
first, you remember, where Bop steals the blue- 
pills, and the Wizard tries to throw him into 
the sea. You can’t think how funny it was to 
hear Aunt Izzie reading ‘ Edwitha ’ out 
loud — ” and Katy went into convulsions at 
the recollection “ where she got to ‘ Oh Bop — 
my angel Bop — ’ I just rolled under the ta¬ 
ble, and stuffed the table-cover in my mouth 
to keep from screaming right out. By and by 
I heard her call Debby, and give her the pa- 


76 What Katy Did 

pers, and say: ‘ Here is a mass of trash which 
I wish you to put at once into the kitchen 
fire. 5 And she told me afterward that she 
thought I would be in an insane asylum before 
I was twenty. It was too bad, 55 ended Katy, 
half laughing and half crying, “ to burn up 
the new chapter and all. But there’s one good 
thing — she didn’t find £ The Fairy of the Dry 
Goods Box, 5 that was stuffed farther back in 
the seat. 

££ And now, 55 continued the mistress of cere¬ 
monies, ££ we will begin. Miss Hall will 
please rise.” 

££ Miss Hall,” much flustered at her fine 
name, got up with very red cheeks. 

££ It was once upon a time,” she read, 
££ Moonlight lay on the halls of the Alhambra, 
and the knight, striding impatiently down the 
passage, thought she would never come.” 

££ Who, the moon? 55 asked Clover. 

££ No, of course not,” replied Cecy, ££ a lady 
he was in love with. The next verse is going 
to tell about her, only you interrupted. 

££ She wore a turban of silver, with a jew¬ 
elled crescent. As she stole down the corregi- 


In the Loft 77 

dor the beams struck it and it glittered like 
stars. 

“ ‘ So you are come, Zuleika? 5 
Yes, my lord.’ 

“ Just then a sound as of steel smote upon 
the ear, and Zuleika’s mail-clad father rushed 
in. He drew his sword, so did the other. A 
moment more, and they both lay dead and stiff 
in the beams of the moon. Zuleika gave a 
loud shriek, and threw herself upon their 
bodies. She was dead, too! And so ends the 
Tragedy of the Alhambra. 55 

“ That’s lovely, 55 said Katy, drawing a long 
breath, “ only very sad! What beautiful sto¬ 
ries you do write, Cecy! But I wish you 
wouldn’t always kill the people. Why 
couldn’t the knight have killed the father, and 
— no, I suppose Zuleika wouldn’t have mar¬ 
ried him then. Well, the father might have — 
oh, bother! why must anybody be killed, any¬ 
how? why not have them fall on each other’s 
necks, and make up? ” 

“Why, Katy!” cried Cecy, “it wouldn’t 
have been a tragedy then. You know the 
name was A Tragedy of the Alhambra.” 


78 What Katy Did 

“ Oh, well,” said Katy, hurriedly, for 
Cecy’s lips were beginning to pout, and her 
fair, pinkish face to redden, as if she were 
about to cry; “ perhaps it was prettier to have 
them all die; only I thought, for a change, you 
know! — What a lovely word that was — 
c Corregidor 5 — what does it mean? ” 

“ I don’t know,” replied Cecy, quite con¬ 
soled. “ It was in the ‘ Conquest of Granada/ 
Something to walk over, I believe.” 

“ The next,” went on Katy, consulting her 
paper, “ is ‘ Yap/ a Simple Poem, by Clover 
Carr.” 

All the children giggled, but Clover got up 
composedly, and recited the following verses: 

“Did you ever know Yap? 

The best little dog 
Who e’er sat on lap 
Or barked at a frog. 

“ His eyes were like beads, 

His tail like a mop, 

And it waggled as if 
It never would stop. 

“ His hair was like silk 
Of the glossiest sheen, 

He always ate milk, 

And once the cold-cream 


79 


In the Loft 

“ Off the nursery bureau 
(That line is too long!) 

It made him quite ill, 

So endeth my song. 

“ For Yappy he died 
Just two months ago, 

And we oughtn’t to sing 
At a funeral, you know.” 

The “ Poem 55 met with immense applause; 
all the children laughed, and shouted, and 
clapped, till the loft rang again. But Clover 
kept her face perfectly, and sat down as de¬ 
mure as ever, except that the little dimples 
came and went at the corners of her mouth; 
dimples, partly natural, and partly, I regret 
to say, the result of a pointed slate-pencil, 
with which Clover was in the habit of deepen¬ 
ing them every day while she studied her 
lessons. 

“ Now,” said Katy, after the noise had sub¬ 
sided, “ now come ‘ Scripture Verses, 5 by Miss 
Elsie and Joanna Carr. Hold up your head, 
Elsie, and speak distinctly; and oh, Johnnie, 
you mustn't giggle in that way when it comes 
your turn! 55 

But Johnnie only giggled the harder at this 


8o 


What Katy Did 

appeal, keeping her hands very tight across her 
mouth, and peeping out over her fingers. 
Elsie, however, was solemn as a little judge, 
and with great dignity began: 

“ An angel with a fiery sword, 

Came to send Adam and Eve abroad 
And as they journeyed through the skies 
They took one look at Paradise. 

They thought of all the happy hours 
Among the birds and fragrant bowers, 

And Eve she wept, and Adam bawled, 

And both together loudly squalled.” 


Dorry snickered at this, but sedate Clover 
hushed him. 

“You mustn’t/ 5 she said; “it’s about the 
Bible, you know. Now John, it’s your turn.” 

But Johnnie would persist in holding her 
hands over her mouth, while her fat little 
shoulders shook with laughter. At last, with 
a great effort, she pulled her face straight, and 
speaking as fast as she possibly could, re¬ 
peated, in a sort of burst: 

“ Balaam’s donkey saw the Angel, 

And stopped short in fear. 

Balaam didn’t see the Angel, 

Which is very queer.” 


In the Loft 81 

After which she took refuge again behind 
her fingers, while Elsie went on — 

“ Elijah by the creek, 

He by ravens fed, 

Took from their horny beak 
Pieces of meat and bread.” 

“ Come, Johnnie,” said Katy, but the incor¬ 
rigible Johnnie was shaking again, and all 
they could make out was — 

“ The bears came down, and ate-and ate.” 

These “ Verses ” were part of a grand proj¬ 
ect on which Clover and Elsie had been busy 
for more than a year. It was a sort of re¬ 
arrangement of Scripture for infant minds; 
and when it was finished, they meant to have 
it published, bound in red, with daguerreo¬ 
types of the two authoresses on the cover. 
“ The Youth’s Poetical Bible ” was to be the 
name of it. Papa, much tickled with the 
scraps which he overheard, proposed, instead, 
“The Trundle-Bed Book,” as having been 
composed principally in that spot, but Elsie 
and Clover were highly indignant, and would 
not listen to the idea for a moment. 


82 


What Katy Did 

After the “ Scripture Verses/’ came Dor- 
ry’s turn. He had been allowed to choose for 
himself, which was unlucky, as his taste was 
peculiar, not to say gloomy. On this occasion 
he had selected that cheerful hymn which 
begins — 

“ Hark, from the tombs a doleful sound.” 

And he now began to recite it in a lugubrious 
voice and with great emphasis, smacking his 
lips, as it were, over such lines as — 

“ Princes, this clay shall be your bed, 

In spite of all your towers.” 

The older children listened with a sort of 
fascinated horror, rather enjoying the cold 
chills which ran down their backs, and hud¬ 
dling close together, as Dorry’s hollow tones 
echoed from the dark corners of the loft. It 
was too much for Philly, however. At the 
close of the piece he was found to be in tears. 

“ I don’t want to st-a-a-y up here and be 
groaned at,” he sobbed. 

“ There, you bad boy! ” cried Katy, all the 
more angry because she was conscious of hav- 


In the Loft 83 

ing enjoyed it herself, “ that’s what you do 
with your horrid hymns, frightening us to 
death and making Phil cry! ” And she gave 
Dorry a little shake. He began to whimper, 
and as Phil was still sobbing, and Johnnie had 
begun to sob too, out of sympathy with the 
others, the Feet in the Loft seemed likely to 
come to a sad end. 

“ Pm goin to tell Aunt Izzie that I don’t 
like you,” declared Dorry, putting one leg 
through the opening in the floor. 

“ No, you aren’t,” said Katy, seizing him, 
“ you are going to stay, because now we are 
going to have the Feast! Do stop, Phil; and 
Johnnie, don’t be a goose, but come and pass 
round the cookies.” 

The word “Feast” produced a speedy ef¬ 
fect on the spirits of the party. Phil cheered 
at once, and Dorry changed his mind about go¬ 
ing. The black bottle was solemnly set in the 
midst, and the cookies were handed about by 
Johnnie, who was now all smiles. The cookies 
had scalloped edges and caraway seeds inside, 
and were very nice. There were two apiece; 


84 What Katy Did 

and as the last was finished, Katy put her 
hand in her pocket, and amid great applause, 
produced the crowning addition to the repast 
— seven long, brown sticks of cinnamon. 

“ Isn’t it fun? ” she said. “ Debby was real 
good-natured to-day, and let me put my own 
hand into the box, so I picked out the longest 
sticks there were. Now, Cecy, as you’re com¬ 
pany, you shall have the first drink out of the 
bottle.” 

The “ something delicious” proved to be 
weak vinegar-and-water. It was quite warm, 
but somehow, drank up there in the loft, and 
out of a bottle, it tasted very nice. Beside, 
they didn’t call it vinegar-and-water — of 
course not! Each child gave his or her swal¬ 
low a different name, as if the bottle were like 
Signor Blitz’s and could pour out a dozen 
things at once. Clover called her share “ Rasp¬ 
berry Shrub,” Dorry christened his “ Ginger 
Pop,” while Cecy, who was romantic, took her 
three sips under the name of “ Hydomel,” 
which she explained was something nice, 
made, she believed, of beeswax. The last 


In the Loft 85 

drop gone, and the last bit of cinnamon 
crunched, the company came to order again, 
for the purpose of hearing Philly repeat his 
one piece, — 

“ Little drops of water,” 

which exciting poem he had said every Satur¬ 
day as far back as they could remember. After 
that Katy declared the literary part of the 
“ Feet 55 over, and they all fell to playing 
“ Stagecoach, 55 which, in spite of close quar¬ 
ters and an occasional bump from the roof, 
was such good fun, that a general “Oh dear! 55 
welcomed the ringing of the tea-bell. I sup¬ 
pose cookies and vinegar had taken away their 
appetites, for none of them were hungry, and 
Dorry astonished Aunt Izzie very much by 
eyeing the table in a disgusted way, and say¬ 
ing : “ Pshaw! only plum sweatmeats and 
sponge cake and hot biscuit! I don’t want any 
supper. 55 

“ What ails the child? he must be sick, 55 said 
Dr. Carr; but Katy explained. 

“ Oh no, Papa, it isn’t that — only we’ve 
been having a feast in the loft.” 


86 


What Katy Did 

“ Did you have a good time? ” asked Papa, 
while Aunt Izzie gave a dissatisfied groan. 
And all the children answered at once: 
“ Splendiferous! ” 


CHAPTER VI 


INTIMATE FRIENDS 

“ Aunt Izzie, may I ask Imogen Clark to 
spend the day here on Saturday? ” cried 
Katy, bursting in one afternoon. 

“ Who on earth is Imogen Clark? I never 
heard the name before,” replied her aunt. 

“Oh, the loveliest girl! She hasn’t been 
going to Mrs. Knight’s school but a little 
while, but we’re the greatest friends. And 
she’s perfectly beautiful, Aunt Izzie. Her 
hands are just as white as snow, and no bigger 
than that. She’s got the littlest waist of any 
girl in school, and she’s real sweet, and so self- 
denying and unselfish! I don’t believe she has 
a bit good times at home, either. Do let me 
ask her! ” 

“ How do you know she’s so sweet and self- 
denying, if you’ve known her such a short 
time?” asked Aunt Izzie, in an unpromising 
tone. 


88 


What Katy Did 

“ Oh, she tells me everything! We always 
walk together at recess now. I know all about 
her, and she’s just lovely! Her father used to 
be real rich, but they’re poor now, and Imogen 
had to have her boots patched twice last win¬ 
ter. I guess she’s the flower of her family. 
You can’t think how I love her! ” concluded 
Katy, sentimentally. 

“ No, I can’t,” said Aunt Izzie. “ I never 
could see into these sudden friendships of 
yours, Katy, and I’d rather you wouldn’t in¬ 
vite this Imogen, or whatever her name is, till 
I’ve had a chance to ask somebody about her.” 

Katy clasped her hands in despair. “ Oh, 
Aunt Izzie! ” she cried, “ Imogen knows that 
I came in to ask you, and she’s standing at the 
gate at this moment, waiting to hear what you 
say. Please let me, just this once! I shall be 
so dreadfully ashamed not to.” 

“ Well,” said Miss Izzie, moved by the 
wretchedness of Katy’s face, “ if you’ve asked 
her already, it’s no use my saying no, I sup¬ 
pose. But recollect, Katy, this is not to hap¬ 
pen again. I can’t have you inviting girls, and 
then coming for my leave. Your father won’t 


Intimate Friends 89 

be at all pleased. He’s very particular about 
whom you make friends with. Remember how 
Mrs. Spenser turned out.” 

Poor Katy! Her propensity to fall vio¬ 
lently in love with new people was always get¬ 
ting her into scrapes. Ever since she began to 
walk and talk, “ Katy’s intimate friends ” had 
been one of the jokes of the household. 

Papa once undertook to keep a list of them, 
but the number grew so great that he gave it 
up in despair. First on the list was a 
small Irish child, named Marianne O’Riley. 
Marianne lived in a street which Katy passed 
on her way to school. It was not Mrs. 
Knight’s, but an A B C school, to which Dorry 
and John now went. Marianne used to be 
always making sand-pies in front of her moth¬ 
er’s house, and Katy, who was about five years 
old, often stopped to help her. Over this mu¬ 
tual pastry they grew so intimate, that Katy 
resolved to adopt Marianne as her own little 
girl, and bring her up in a safe and hidden 
corner. 

She told Clover of this plan, but nobody 
else. The two children, full of their delight- 


90 


What Katy Did 

ful secret, began to save pieces of bread and 
cookies from their supper every evening. By 
degrees they collected a great heap of dry 
crusts, and other refreshments, which they put 
safely away in the garret. They also saved 
the apples which were given them for two 
weeks, and made a bed in a big empty box, 
with cotton quilts, and the dolls’ pillows out 
of the baby-house. When all was ready, Katy 
broke the plan to her beloved Marianne, and 
easily persuaded her to run away and take 
possession of this new home. 

“ We won’t tell Papa and Mamma till she’s 
quite grown up,” Katy said to Clover; “ then 
we’ll bring her down stairs, and won t they 
be surprised? Don’t let’s call her Marianne 
any longer, either. It isn’t pretty. We’ll 
name her Susquehanna instead — Susque¬ 
hanna Carr. Recollect, Marianne, you 
mustn’t answer if I call you Marianne — only 
when I say Susquehanna.” 

“ Yes’m,” replied Marianne, very meekly. 

For a whole day all went on delightfully. 
Susquehanna lived in her wooden box, ate all 
the apples and the freshest cookies, and was 


Intimate Friends 91 

happy. The two children took turns to steal 
away and play with the “ Baby,” as they 
called Marianne, though she was a great deal 
bigger than Clover. But when night came on, 
and nurse swooped on Katy and Clover, and 
carried them off to bed, Miss O’Riley began 
to think that the garret was a dreadful place. 
Peeping out of her box, she could see black 
things standing in corners, which she did not 
recollect seeing in the day-time. They were 
really trunks and brooms and warming-pans, 
but somehow, in the darkness, they looked 
different — big and awful. Poor little 
Marianne bore it as long as she could; but 
when at last a rat began to scratch in the wall 
close beside her, her courage gave way en¬ 
tirely, and she screamed at the top of her voice. 

“ What is that? ” said Dr. Carr, who had 
just come in, and was on his way up stairs. 

“ It sounds as if it came from the attic,” 
said Mrs. Carr (for this was before Mamma 
died). “ Can it be that one of the children has 
got out of bed and wandered up stairs in her 
sleep?” 

No, Katy and Clover were safe in the nurs- 


92 What Katy Did 

ery; so Dr. Carr took a candle and went as fast 
as he could to the attic, where the yells were 
growing terrific. When he reached the top of 
the stairs, the cries ceased. He looked about. 
Nothing was to be seen at first, then a little 
head appeared over the edge of a big wooden 
box, and a piteous voice sobbed out: 

“Ah, Miss Katy, and indeed I can’t be 
stayin’ any longer. There’s rats in it! ” 

“Who on earth are you?” asked the 
amazed Doctor. 

“ Sure I’m Miss Katy’s and Miss Clover’s 
Baby. But I don’t want to be a baby any 
longer. I want to go home and see my 
mother.” And again the poor little midge 
lifted up her voice and wept. 

I don’t think Dr. Carr ever laughed so hard 
in his life, as when finally he got to the bottom 
of the story, and found that Katy and Clover 
had been “ adopting ” a child. But he was 
very kind to poor Susquehanna, and carried 
her down stairs in his arms, to the nursery. 
There, in a bed close to the other children, she 
soon forgot her troubles and fell asleep. 

The little sisters were much surprised when 


Intimate Friends 93 

they waked up in the morning, and found their 
Baby asleep beside them. But their joy was 
speedily turned to tears. After breakfast, Dr. 
Carr carried Marianne home to her mother, 
who was in a great fright over her disappear¬ 
ance, and explained to the children that the 
garret plan must be given up. Great was the 
mourning in the nursery; but as Marianne was 
allowed to come and play with them now and 
then, they gradually got over their grief. A 
few months later Mr. O’Riley moved away 
from Burnet, and that was the end of Katy’s 
first friendship. 

The next was even funnier. There was a 
queer old black woman who lived all alone 
by herself in a small house near the school. 
This old woman had a very bad temper. The 
neighbors told horrible stories about her, so 
that the children were afraid to pass the house. 
They used to turn always just before they 
reached it, and cross to the other side of the 
street. This they did so regularly, that their 
feet had worn a path in the grass. But for 
some reason Katy found a great fascination in 
the little house. She liked to dodge about the 


94 


What Katy Did 

door, always holding herself ready to turn and 
run in case the old woman rushed out upon 
her with a broomstick. One day she begged a 
large cabbage of Alexander, and rolled it in 
at the door of the house. The old woman 
seemed to like it, and after this Katy always 
stopped to speak when she went by. She even 
got so far as to sit on the step and watch the 
old woman at work. There was a sort of per¬ 
ilous pleasure in doing this. It was like sit¬ 
ting at the entrance of a lion’s cage, uncertain 
at what moment his Majesty might take it into 
his head to give a spring and eat you up. 

After this, Katy took a fancy to a couple 
of twin sisters, daughters of a German jewel¬ 
ler. They were quite grown-up, and always 
wore dresses exactly alike. Hardly any one 
could tell them apart. They spoke very little 
English, and as Katy didn’t know a word of 
German, their intercourse was confined to 
smiles, and to the giving of bunches of flowers, 
which Katy used to tie up and present to them 
whenever they passed the gate. She was too 
shy to do more than just put the flowers in 
their hands and run away; but the twins were 


Intimate Friends 


95 


evidently pleased, for one day, when Clover 
happened to be looking out of the window, she 
saw them open the gate, fasten a little parcel 
to a bush, and walk rapidly off. Of course 
she called Katy at once, and the two children 
flew out to see what the parcel was. It held a 
bonnet — a beautiful doll’s bonnet of blue 
silk, trimmed with artificial flowers; upon it 
was pinned a slip of paper with these words, 
in an odd foreign hand: 

“To the nice little girl who was so kindly 
to give us some flowers.” 

You can judge whether Katy. and Clover 
were pleased or not. 

This was when Katy was six years old. I 
can’t begin to tell you how many different 
friends she had set up since then. There was 
an ash-man, and a steam-boat captain. There 
was Mrs. Sawyer’s cook, a nice old woman, 
who gave Katy lessons in cooking, and taught 
her to make soft custard and sponge-cake. 
There was a bonnet-maker, pretty and dressy, 
whom, to Aunt Izzie’s great indignation, Katy 
persisted in calling “ Cousin Estelle! ” There 
was a thief in the town-jail, under whose win- 


96 What Katy Did 

dow Katy used to stand, saying, “ I’m so 
sorry, poor man! 55 and “have you got any lit¬ 
tle girls like me 4 ? 55 in the most piteous way. 
The thief had a piece of string which he let 
down from the window. Katy would tie rose¬ 
buds and cherries to this string, and the thief 
would draw them up. It was so interesting to 
do this, that Katy felt dreadfully when they 
carried the man off to the State Prison. Then 
followed a short interval of Cornelia Perham, 
a nice, good-natured girl, whose father was a 
fruit-merchant. I am afraid Katy’s liking for 
prunes and white grapes played a part in this 
intimacy. It was splendid fun to go with Cor¬ 
nelia to her father’s big shop, and have whole 
boxes of raisins and drums of figs opened for 
their amusement, and be allowed to ride up 
and down in the elevator as much as they 
liked. But of all Katy’s queer acquaintances, 
Mrs. Spenser, to whom Aunt Izzie had al¬ 
luded, was the queerest. 

Mrs. Spenser was a mysterious lady whom 
nobody ever saw. Her husband was a hand¬ 
some, rather bad-looking man, who had come 
from parts unknown, and rented a small house 


Intimate Friends 


97 


in Burnet. He didn’t seem to have any par¬ 
ticular business, and was away from home a 
great deal. His wife was said to be an in¬ 
valid, and people, when they spoke of him, 
shook their heads and wondered how the poor 
woman got on all alone in the house, while her 
husband was absent. 

Of course Katy was too young to under¬ 
stand these whispers, or the reasons why peo¬ 
ple were not disposed to think well of Mr. 
Spenser. The romance of the closed door and 
the lady whom nobody saw, interested her 
very much. She used to stop and stare at the 
windows, and wonder what was going on in¬ 
side, till at last it seemed as if she must know. 
So, one day she took some flowers and Victoria, 
her favorite doll, and boldly marched into the 
Spensers’ yard. 

She tapped at the front door, but nobody 
answered. Then she tapped again. Still no¬ 
body answered. She tried the door. It was 
locked. So shouldering Victoria, she trudged 
round to the back of the house. As she passed 
the side-door she saw that it was open a little 
way. She knocked for the third time, and as 


98 What Katy Did 

no one came, she went in, and passing through 
the little hall, began to tap at all the inside 
doors. 

There seemed to be no people in the house. 
Katy peeped into the kitchen first. It was 
bare and forlorn. All sorts of dishes were 
standing about. There was no fire in the 
stove. The parlor was not much better. Mr. 
Spenser’s boots lay in the middle of the floor. 
There were dirty glasses on the table. On the 
mantel-piece was a platter with bones of meat 
upon it. Dust lay thick over everything, and 
the whole house looked as if it hadn’t been 
lived in for at least a year. 

Katy tried several other doors, all of which 
were locked, and then she went up stairs. As 
she stood on the top step, grasping her flow¬ 
ers, and a little doubtful what to do next, a 
feeble voice from a bed-room called out: 

“ Who is there? ” 

This was Mrs. Spenser. She was lying on 
her bed, which was very tossed and tumbled, 
as if it hadn’t been made up that morning. 
The room was as disorderly and dirty as all 
the rest of the house, and Mrs. Spenser’s 



“Pm Dr. Carr's little girl," answered Katy , going 
straight up to the bed. “/ came to bring 
you some flowers." Page pp. 





Intimate Friends 


99 


wrapper and night-cap were by no means 
clean, but her face was sweet, and she had 
beautiful curling hair, which fell over the pil¬ 
low. She was evidently very sick, and alto¬ 
gether Katy felt sorrier for her than she had 
ever done for anybody in her life. 

“Who are you, child? 55 asked Mrs. Spen¬ 
ser. 

“ I 5 m Dr. Carr’s little girl, 55 answered Katy, 
going straight up to the bed. “ I came to bring 
you some flowers. 55 And she laid the bouquet 
on the dirty sheet. 

Mrs. Spenser seemed to like the flowers. 
She took them up and smelled them for a long 
time, without speaking. 

“ But how did you get in? 55 she said at last. 

“ The door was open, 55 faltered Katy, who 
was beginning to feel scared at her own dar¬ 
ing, “ and they said you were sick, so I thought 
perhaps you would like me to come and see 
you. 55 

“You are a kind little girl, 55 said Mrs. 
Spenser, and gave her a kiss. 

After this Katy used to go every day. 
Sometimes Mrs. Spenser would be up and 


100 


What Katy Did 

moving feebly about; but more often she was 
in bed, and Katy would sit beside her. The 
house never looked a bit better than it did 
that first day, but after a while Katy used to 
brush Mrs. Spenser’s hair, and wash her face 
with the corner of a towel. 

I think her visits were a comfort to the poor 
lady, who was very ill and lonely. Sometimes, 
when she felt pretty well, she would tell Katy 
stories about the time when she was a little 
girl and lived at home with her father and 
mother. But she never spoke of Mr. Spenser, 
and Katy never saw him except once, when 
she was so frightened that for several days she 
dared not go near the house. At last Cecy 
reported that she had seen him go off in the 
stage with his carpet-bag, so Katy ventured 
in again. Mrs. Spenser cried when she saw 
her. 

“ I thought you were never coming any 
more,” she said. 

Katy was touched and flattered at having 
been missed, and after that she never lost a 
day. She always carried the prettiest flowers 
she could find, and if any one gave her a 


Intimate Friends ioi 

specially nice peach or a bunch of grapes, she 
saved it for Mrs. Spenser. 

Aunt Izzie was much worried at all this. 
But Dr. Carr would not interfere. He said it 
was a case where grown people could do noth¬ 
ing, and if Katy was a comfort to the poor 
lady he was glad. Katy was glad too, and the 
visits did her as much good as they did Mrs. 
Spenser, for the intense pity she felt for the 
sick woman made her gentle and patient as 
she had never been before. 

One day she stopped, as usual, on her way 
home from school. She tried the side-door — 
it was locked; the back-door, it was locked too. 
All the blinds were shut tight. This was very 
puzzling. 

As she stood in the yard a woman put her 
head out of the window of the next house. 
“ It’s no use knocking / 5 she said, <c all the 
folks have gone away . 55 

“ Gone away where? 55 asked Katy. 

“ Nobody knows , 55 said the woman; “ the 
gentleman came back in the middle of the 
night, and this morning, before light, he had 
a wagon at the door, and just put in the trunks 


102 


What Katy Did 

and the sick lady, and drove off. There’s been 
more than one a-knocking besides you, since 
then. But Mr. Pudgett, he’s got the key, and 
nobody can get in without goin’ to him.” 

It was too true. Mrs. Spenser was gone, 
and Katy never saw her again. In a few days 
it came out that Mr. Spenser was a very bad 
man, and had been making false money — 
counterfeiting , as grown people call it. The 
police were searching for him to put him in 
jail, and that was the reason he had come back 
in such a hurry and carried off his poor sick 
wife. Aunt Izzie cried with mortification, 
when she heard this. She said she thought it 
was a disgrace that Katy should have been 
visiting in a counterfeiter’s family. But Dr. 
Carr only laughed. He told Aunt Izzie that 
he didn’t think that kind of crime was catch¬ 
ing, and as for Mrs. Spenser, she was much to 
be pitied. But Aunt Izzie could not get over 
her vexation, and every now and then, when 
she was vexed, she would refer to the affair, 
though this all happened so long ago that most 
people had forgotten all about it, and Philly 
and John had stopped playing at “ Putting 


Intimate Friends 103 

Mr. Spenser in Jail,” which for a long time 
was one of their favorite games. 

Katy always felt badly when Aunt Izzie 
spoke unkindly of her poor sick friend. She 
had tears in her eyes now, as she walked to 
the gate, and looked so very sober, that Imogen 
Clark, who stood there waiting, clasped her 
hands and said : 

“Ah, I see! Your aristocratic Aunt re¬ 
fuses.” 

Imogen’s real name was Elizabeth. She 
was rather a pretty girl, with a screwed-up, 
sentimental mouth, shiny brown hair, and a 
little round curl on each of her cheeks. These 
curls must have been fastened on with glue 
or tin tacks, one would think, for they never 
moved, however much she laughed or shook 
her head. Imogen was a bright girl, naturally, 
but she had read so many novels that her brain 
was completely turned. It was partly this 
which made her so attractive to Katy, who 
adored stories, and thought Imogen was a real 
heroine of romance. 

“ Oh no, she doesn’t,” she replied, hardly 
able to keep from laughing, at the idea of Aunt 


104 What Katy Did 

Izzie’s being called an “ aristocratic relative ” 
— ££ she says she shall be my hap — ” But 
here Katy’s conscience gave a prick, and the 
sentence ended in ££ um, um, um — ” ££ So 

you’ll come, won’t you, darling? I am so 
glad! ” 

££ And I! ” said Imogen, turning up her eyes 
theatrically. 

From this time on till the end of the week, 
the children talked of nothing but Imogen’s 
visit, and the nice time they were going to 
have. Before breakfast on Saturday morning, 
Katy and Clover were at work building a 
beautiful bower of asparagus boughs under 
the trees. All the playthings were set out in 
order. Debby baked them some cinnamon 
cakes, the kitten had a pink ribbon tied round 
her neck, and the dolls, including ££ Pikery,” 
were arrayed in their best clothes. 

About half-past ten Imogen arrived. She 
was dressed in a light-blue barege, with low 
neck and short sleeves, and wore coral beads 
in her hair, white satin slippers, and a pair of 
yellow gloves. The gloves and slippers were 
quite dirty, and the barege was old and 


Intimate Friends 105 

darned; but the general effect was so very 
gorgeous, that the children, who were dressed 
for play, in gingham frocks and white aprons, 
were quite dazzled at the appearance of their 
guest. 

“ Oh, Imogen, you look just like a young 
lady in a story! ” said simple Katy; where¬ 
upon Imogen tossed her head and rustled her 
skirts about more than ever. 

Somehow, with these fine clothes, Imogen 
seemed to have put on a fine manner, quite 
different from the one she used every day. 
You know some people always do, when they 
go out visiting. You would almost have sup¬ 
posed that this was a different Imogen, who 
was kept in a box most of the time, and taken 
out for Sundays and grand occasions. She 
swam about, and diddled, and lisped, and 
looked at herself in the glass, and was gen¬ 
erally grown-up and airy. When Aunt Izzie 
spoke to her, she fluttered and behaved so 
queerly, that Clover almost laughed; and 
even Katy, who could see nothing wrong 
in people she loved, was glad to carry her 
away to the playroom. 


106 What Katy Did 

“ Come out to the bower/’ she said, putting 
her arm round the blue barege waist. 

“ A bower! ” cried Imogen. “ How sweet! ” 
But when they reached the asparagus boughs 
her face fell. “ Why it hasn’t any roof, or 
pinnacles, or any fountain! ” she said. 

“Why no, of course not,” said Clover, 
staring, “ we made it ourselves.” 

“Oh!” said Imogen. She was evidently 
disappointed. Katy and Clover felt morti¬ 
fied; but as their visitor did not care for the 
bower, they tried to think of something else. 

“ Let us go to the Loft,” they said. 

So they all crossed the yard together. Imo¬ 
gen picked her way daintily in the white satin 
slippers, but when she saw the spiked post, she 
gave a scream. 

“ Oh, not up there, darling, not up there! ” 
she cried; “ never, never! ” 

“ Oh, do try! It’s just as easy as can be,” 
pleaded Katy, going up and down half a 
dozen times in succession to show how easy it 
was. But Imogen wouldn’t be persuaded. 

“ Do not ask me,” she said affectedly; “ my 


Intimate Friends 107 

nerves would never stand such a thing! And 
besides — my dress! ” 

“ What made you wear it*? ” said Philly, 
who was a plain-spoken child, and given to 
questions. While John whispered to Dorry, 
“ That’s a real stupid girl. Let’s go off some¬ 
where and play by ourselves.” 

So, one by one, the small fry crept away, 
leaving Katy and Clover to entertain the vis¬ 
itor by themseves. They tried dolls, but Imo¬ 
gen did not care for dolls. Then they pro¬ 
posed to sit down in the shade, and cap verses, 
a game they all liked. But Imogen said that 
though she adored poetry, she never could re¬ 
member any. So it ended in their going to the 
orchard, where Imogen ate a great many plums 
and early apples, and really seemed to enjoy 
herself. But when she could eat no more, a 
dreadful dulness fell over the party. At last 
Imogen said: 

“ Don’t you ever sit in the drawing-room? ” 
“ The what? ” asked Clover. 

“ The drawing-room,” repeated Imogen. 
“Oh, she means the parlor! ” cried Katy. 
“ No, we don’t sit there except when Aunt 


io8 


What Katy Did 

Izzie has company to tea. It is all dark and 
poky, you know. Beside, it’s so much pleas¬ 
anter to be outdoors. Don’t you think so? ” 

“ Yes, sometimes,” replied Imogen, doubt¬ 
fully, “ but I think it would be pleasant to go 
in and sit there for a while, now. My head 
aches dreadfully, being out here in this horrid 
sun.” 

Katy was at her wit’s end to know what to 
do. They scarcely ever went into the parlor, 
which Aunt Izzie regarded as a sort of sacred 
place. She kept cotton petticoats over all the 
chairs for fear of dust, and never opened the 
blinds for fear of flies. The idea of children 
with dusty boots going in there to sit! On the 
other hand, Katy’s natural politeness made it 
hard to refuse a visitor anything she asked 
for. And beside, it was dreadful to think that 
Imogen might go away and report “ Katy Carr 
isn’t allowed to sit in the best room, even when 
she has company! ” With a quaking heart 
she led the way to the parlor. She dared not 
open the blinds, so the room looked very dark. 
She could just see Imogen’s figure as she sat on 
the sofa, and Clover twirling uneasily about 


Intimate Friends 109 

on the piano-stool. All the time she kept lis¬ 
tening to hear if Aunt Izzie were not coming, 
and altogether the parlor was a dismal place 
to her; not half so pleasant as the asparagus 
bower, where they felt perfectly safe. 

But Imogen, who, for the first time, seemed 
comfortable, began to talk. Her talk was 
about herself. Such stories she told about the 
things which had happened to her! All the 
young ladies in The Ledger put together, 
never had stranger adventures. Gradually, 
Katy and Clover got so interested that they 
left their seats and crouched down close to the 
sofa, listening with open mouths to these sto¬ 
ries. Katy forgot to listen for Aunt Izzie. 
The parlor door swung open, but she did not 
notice it. She did not even hear the front 
door shut, when Papa came home to dinner. 

Dr. Carr, stopping in the hall to glance over 
his newspaper, heard the high-pitched voice 
running on in the parlor. At first he hardly 
listened; then these words caught his ear: 

“ Oh, it was lovely, girls, perfectly deli¬ 
cious ! I suppose I did look well, for I was all 
in white, with my hair let down, and just one 


no 


What Katy Did 

rose, you know, here on top. And he leaned 
over me, and said in a low, deep tone, ‘ Lady, 
I am a Brigand, but I feel the enchanting 
power of your beauty. You are free! 

Dr. Carr pushed the door open a little far¬ 
ther. Nothing was to be seen but some indis¬ 
tinct figures, but he heard Katy’s voice in an 
eager tone: 

“ Oh, do go on. What happened next? ” 

“ Who on earth have the children got in the 
parlor? 55 he asked Aunt Izzie, whom he found 
in the dining-room. 

“ The parlor! 55 cried Miss Izzie, wrath- 
fully, “ why, what are they there for? 55 Then 
going to the door, she called out, “Children, 
what are you doing in the parlor? Come out 
right away. I thought you were playing out¬ 
doors. 55 

“ Imogen had a head-ache, 55 faltered Katy. 
The three girls came out into the hall; Clover 
and Katy looking scared, and even the En¬ 
chanter of the Brigand quite crest-fallen. 

“ Oh, 55 said Aunt Izzie, grimly, “ I am sorry 
to hear that. Probably you are bilious. Would 
you like some camphor or anything? 55 


Intimate Friends hi 

“ No, thank you,” replied Imogen, meekly. 
But afterwards she whispered to Katy: 

“ Your aunt isn’t very nice, I think. She’s 
just like Jackima, that horrid old woman I 
told you about, who lived in the Brigand’s 
Cave and did the cooking. 

“ I don’t think you’re a bit polite to tell me 
so,” retorted Katy, very angry at this speech. 

“ Oh, never mind, dear, don’t take it to 
heart! ” replied Imogen, sweetly. “ We can’t 
help having relations that ain’t nice, you 
know.” 

The visit was evidently not a success. Papa 
was very civil to Imogen at dinner, but he 
watched her closely, and Katy saw a comical 
twinkle in his eye, which she did not like. 
Papa had very droll eyes. They saw every¬ 
thing, and sometimes they seemed to talk al¬ 
most as distinctly as his tongue. Katy began 
to feel low-spirited. She confessed afterward 
that she should never have got through the 
afternoon if she hadn’t run up stairs two or 
three times, and comforted herself by reading 
a little in “ Rosamond.” 

“Aren’t you glad she’s gone?” whispered 


112 


What Katy Did 

Clover, as they stood at the gate together 
watching Imogen walk down the street. 

“Oh, Clover! how can you? 5 ’ said Katy. 
But she gave Clover a great hug, and I think 
in her heart she was glad. 

“ Katy,” said Papa, next day, “ you came 
into the room then, exactly like your new 
friend Miss Clark.” 

“How? I don’t know what you mean,” 
answered Katy, blushing deeply. 

“ &?,” said Dr. Carr; and he got up, raising 
his shoulders and squaring his elbows, and 
took a few mincing steps across the room. 
Katy couldn’t help laughing, it was so funny, 
and so like Imogen. Then Papa sat down 
again and drew her close to him. 

“ My dear,” he said, “ you’re an affection¬ 
ate child, and I’m glad of it. But there is such 
a thing as throwing away one’s affection. I 
didn’t fancy that little girl at all yesterday. 
What makes you like her so much? ” 

“ I didn’t like her so much, yesterday,” ad¬ 
mitted Katy, reluctantly. “ She’s a great deal 
nicer than that at school, sometimes.” 

“ I’m glad to hear it,” said her father. “ For 


Intimate Friends 


1 13 

I should be sorry to think that you really ad¬ 
mired such silly manners. And what was that 
nonsense I heard her telling you about 
Brigands? ” 

“ It really hap — ” began Katy. — Then 
she caught Papa’s eye, and bit her lip, for he 
looked very quizzical. “ Well,” she went on, 
laughing, “ I suppose it didn’t really all hap¬ 
pen ; — but it was ever so funny, Papa, even 
if it was a make-up. And Imogen’s just as 
good-natured as can be. All the girls like 
her.” 

“ Make-ups are all very well,” said Papa, 
“ as long as people don’t try to make you be¬ 
lieve they are true. When they do that, it 
seems to me it comes too near the edge of false¬ 
hood to be very safe or pleasant. If I were 
you, Katy, I’d be a little shy of swearing eter¬ 
nal friendship for Miss Clark. She may be 
good-natured, as you say, but I think two or 
three years hence she won’t seem so nice to 
you as she does now. Give me a kiss, Chick, 
and run away, for there’s Alexander with the 
buggy.” 


CHAPTER VII 


cousin Helen’s visit 

A little knot of the school-girls were walk¬ 
ing home together one afternoon in July. As 
they neared Dr. Carr’s gate, Maria Fiske ex¬ 
claimed, at the sight of a pretty bunch of 
flowers lying in the middle of the sidewalk: 

“ Oh my!” she cried, “ see what somebody’s 
dropped! I’m going to have it.” She stooped 
to pick it up. But, just as her fingers touched 
the stems, the nosegay, as if bewitched, began 
to move. Maria made a bewildered clutch. 
The nosegay moved faster, and at last van¬ 
ished under the gate, while a giggle sounded 
from the other side of the hedge. 

“ Did you see that?” shrieked Maria; 
“ those flowers ran away of themselves.” 

“ Nonsense,” said Katy, “ it’s those absurd 
children.” Then, opening the gate, she called : 
“John! Dorry! come out and show your¬ 
selves.” But nobody replied, and no one 


Cousin Helens Visit 115 

could be seen. The nosegay lay on the path, 
however, and picking it up, Katy exhibited to 
the girls a long end of black thread, tied to the 
stems. 

“ That’s a very favorite trick of Johnnie’s,” 
she said: “ she and Dorry are always tying up 
flowers, and putting them out on the walk to 
tease people. Here, Maria, take ’em if you 
like. Though I don’t think John’s taste in 
bouquets is very good.” 

“ Isn’t it splendid to have vacation come 1 ? ” 
said one of the bigger girls. “ What are you 
all going to do? We’re going to the seaside.” 

“ Pa says he’ll take Susie and me to Niag¬ 
ara,” said Maria. 

“ I’m going to make my aunt a visit,” said 
Alice Blair. “ She lives in a real lovely place 
in the country, and there’s a pond there; and 
Tom (that’s my cousin) says he’ll teach me to 
row. What are you going to do, Katy? ” 

“Oh, I don’t know; play round and have 
splendid times,” replied Katy, throwing her 
bag of books into the air, and catching it again. 
But the other girls looked as if they didn’t 
think this good fun at all, and as if they were 


ii6 


What Katy Did 

sorry for her; and Katy felt suddenly that her 
vacation wasn’t going to be so pleasant as that 
of the rest. 

“ I wish Papa would take us somewhere,” 
she said to Clover, as they walked up the 
gravel path. “ All the other girls’ Papas do.” 

“ He’s too busy,” replied Clover. “ Beside, 
I don’t think any of the rest of the girls have 
half such good times as we. Ellen Robbins 
says she’d give a million of dollars for such 
nice brothers and sisters as ours to play with. 
And, you know, Maria and Susie have awful 
times at home, though they do go to places. 
Mrs. Fiske is so particular. She always says 
‘ Don’t,’ and they haven’t got any yard to their 
house, or anything. I wouldn’t change.” 

“ Nor I,” said Katy, cheering up at these 
words of wisdom. “ Oh, isn’t it lovely to think 
there won’t be any school to-morrow? Vaca¬ 
tions are just splendid!” and she gave her 
bag another toss. It fell to the ground with a 
crash. 

“ There, you’ve cracked your slate,” said 
Clover. 

“ No matter, I sha’n’t want it again for 


Cousin Helens Visit 117 

eight weeks,” replied Katy, comfortably, as 
they ran up the steps. 

They burst open the front door and raced 
up stairs, crying “ Hurrah! hurrah! vacation’s 
begun. Aunt Izzie, vacation’s begun! ” Then 
they stopped short, for lo! the upper hall was 
all in confusion. Sounds of beating and 
dusting came from the spare room. Tables 
and chairs were standing about; and a cot-bed, 
which seemed to be taking a walk all by itself, 
had stopped short at the head of the stairs, and 
barred the way. 

“ Why, how queer! ” said Katy, trying to 
get by. “ What can be going to happen ? Oh, 
there’s Aunt Izzie! Aunt Izzie, who’s com¬ 
ing? What are you moving the things out of 
the Blue-room for? ” 

“ Oh, gracious! is that you? ” replied Aunt 
Izzie, who looked very hot and flurried. 
“ Now, children, it’s no use for you to stand 
there asking questions; I haven’t«got time to 
answer them. Let the bedstead alone, Katy, 
you’ll push it into the wall. There, I told 
you so! ” as Katy gave an impatient shove, 
“ you’ve made a bad mark on the paper. 


n8 


What Katy Did 

What a troublesome child you are! Go right 
down stairs, both of you, and don’t come up 
this way again till after tea. I’ve just as much 
as I can possibly attend to till then.” 

“Just tell us what’s going to happen, and 
we will,” cried the children. 

“ Your Cousin Helen is coming to visit us,” 
said Miss Izzie, curtly, and disappeared into 
the Blue-room. 

This was news indeed. Katy and Clover 
ran down stairs in great excitement, and after 
consulting a little, retired to the Loft to talk 
it over in peace and quiet. Cousin Helen 
coming! It seemed as strange as if Queen 
Victoria, gold crown and all, had invited her¬ 
self to tea. Or as if some character out of a 
book, Robinson Crusoe, say, or “ Amy Her¬ 
bert,” had driven up with a trunk and an¬ 
nounced the intention of spending a week. 
For to the imaginations of the children, Cousin 
Helen was as interesting and unreal as any¬ 
body in the Fairy Tales: Cinderella, or Blue- 
Beard, or dear Red Riding-Hood herself. 
Only there was a sort of mixture of Sunday- 


Cousin Helens Visit 119 

school book in their idea of her, for Cousin 
Helen was very, very good. 

None of them had ever seen her. Philly 
said he was sure she hadn’t any legs, because 
she never went away from home, and lay on a 
sofa all the time. But the rest knew that this 
was because Cousin Helen was ill. Papa 
always went to visit her twice a year, and he 
liked to talk to the children about her, and tell 
how sweet and patient she was, and what a 
pretty room she lived in. Katy and Clover 
had “ played Cousin Helen 55 so long, that 
now they were frightened as well as glad at 
the idea of seeing the real one. 

“ Do you suppose she will want us to say 
hymns to her all the time? 55 asked Clover. 

“ Not all the time,” replied Katy, “ because 
you know she’ll get tired, and have to take 
naps in the afternoons. And then, of course, 
she reads the Bible a great deal. Oh dear, 
how quiet we shall have to be! I wonder how 
long she’s going to stay? ” 

“ What do you suppose she looks like?” 
went on Clover. 

“ Something like c Lucy,’ in Mrs. Sherwood, 


120 


What Katy Did 

I guess, with blue eyes, and curls, and a long, 
straight nose. And she’ll keep her hands 
clasped so all the time, and wear ‘ frilled wrap¬ 
pers,’ and lie on the sofa perfectly still, and 
never smile, but just look patient. We’ll 
have to take off our boots in the hall, Clover, 
and go up stairs in stocking feet, so as not to 
make a noise, all the time she stays.” 

“ Won’t it be funny! ” giggled Clover, her 
sober little face growing bright at the idea of 
this variation on the hymns. 

The time seemed very long till the next 
afternoon, when Cousin Helen was expected. 
Aunt Izzie, who was in a great excitement, 
gave the children many orders about their be¬ 
havior. They were to do this and that, and 
not to do the other. Dorry, at last, announced 
that he wished Cousin Helen would just stay 
at home. Clover and Elsie, who had been 
thinking pretty much the same thing in pri¬ 
vate, were glad to hear that she was on her 
way to a Water Cure, and would stay only 
four days. I 

Five o’clock came. They all sat on the steps 
waiting for the carriage. At last it drove up. 


Cousin Helens Visit 121 

Papa was on the box. He motioned the chil¬ 
dren to stand back. Then he helped out a 
nice-looking young woman, who, Aunt Izzie 
told them, was Cousin Helen’s nurse, and 
then, very carefully, lifted Cousin Helen in 
his arms and brought her in. 

“ Oh, there are the chicks! ” were the first 
words the children heard, in such a gay, pleas¬ 
ant voice. “ Do set me down somewhere, 
uncle. I want to see them so much! ” 

So Papa put Cousin Helen on the hall sofa. 
The nurse fetched a pillow, and when she was 
made comfortable, Dr. Carr called to the little 
ones. 

“ Cousin Helen wants to see you,” he said. 

“ Indeed I do,” said the bright voice. “ So 
this is Katy? Why, what a splendid tall Katy 
it is! And this is Clover,” kissing her; “ and 
this dear little Elsie. You all look as natural 
as possible — just as if I had seen you before.” 

And she hugged them all round, not as if it 
was polite to like them because they were rela¬ 
tions, but as if she had loved them and wanted 
them all her life. 

There was something in Cousin Helen’s 


122 


What Katy Did 

face and manner, which made the children at 
home with her at once. Even Philly, who had 
backed away with his hands behind him, after 
staring hard for a minute or two, came up 
with a sort of rush to get his share of kissing. 

Still, Katy’s first feeling was one of disap¬ 
pointment. Cousin Helen was not at all like 
“ Lucy,” in Mrs. Sherwood’s story. Her nose 
turned up the least bit in the world. She had 
brown hair, which didn’t curl, a brown skin, 
and bright eyes, which danced when she 
laughed or spoke. Her face was thin, but ex¬ 
cept for that you wouldn’t have guessed that 
she was sick. She didn’t fold her hands, and 
she didn’t look patient, but absolutely glad 
and merry. Her dress wasn’t a ££ frilled wrap¬ 
per,” but a sort of loose travelling thing of 
pretty gray stuff, with a rose-colored bow, and 
bracelets, and a round hat trimmed with a gray 
feather. All Katy’s dreams about the “ saintly 
invalid ” seemed to take wings and fly away. 
But the more she watched Cousin Helen the 
more she seemed to like her, and to feel as if 
she were nicer than the imaginary person 
which she and Clover had invented. 


Cousin Helens Visit 123 

“ She looks just like other people, don’t 
she? ” whispered Cecy, who had come over to 
have a peep at the new arrival. 

“ Y-e-s,” replied Katy, doubtfully, “ only a 
great, great deal prettier. 55 

By and by, Papa carried Cousin Helen up 
stairs. All the children wanted to go too, but 
he told them she was tired, and must rest. So 
they went out doors to play till tea-time. 

“ Oh, do let me take up the tray, 55 cried 
Katy at the tea-table, as she watched Aunt 
Izzie getting ready Cousin Helen’s supper. 
Such a nice supper! Cold chicken, and rasp¬ 
berries and cream, and tea in a pretty pink- 
and-white china cup. And such a snow-white 
napkin as Aunt Izzie spread over the tray! 

“ No indeed, 55 said Aunt Izzie; “ you’ll 
drop it the first thing.” But Katy’s eyes 
begged so hard, that Dr. Carr said, “ Yes, let 
her, Izzie; I like to see the girls useful.” 

So Katy, proud of the commission, took the 
tray and carried it carefully across the hall. 
There was a bowl of flowers on the table. As 
she passed, she was struck with a bright idea. 
She set down the tray, and picking out a rose, 


124 What Katy Did 

laid it on the napkin besides the saucer of crim¬ 
son raspberries. It looked very pretty, and 
Katy smiled to herself with pleasure. 

“ What are you stopping for? ” called Aunt 
Izzie, from the dining-room. “ Do be careful, 
Katy, I really think Bridget had better 
take it.” 

“ Oh no, no! ” protested Katy, “ I’m most 
up already.” And she sped up stairs as fast 
as she could go. Luckless speed! She had 
just reached the door of the Blue-room, when 
she tripped upon her boot-lace, which, as 
usual, was dangling, made a misstep, and 
stumbled. She caught at the door to save her¬ 
self; the door flew open; and Katy, with the 
tray, cream, raspberries, rose and all, de¬ 
scended in a confused heap upon the carpet. 

“ I told you so!” exclaimed Aunt Izzie 
from the bottom of the stairs. 

Katy never forgot how kind Cousin Helen 
was on this occasion. She was in bed, and 
was of course a good deal startled at the sud¬ 
den crash and tumble on her floor. But after 
one little jump, nothing could have been 
sweeter than the way in which she comforted 


Cousin Helens Visit 125 

poor crest-fallen Katy, and made so merry 
over the accident, that even Aunt Izzie almost 
forgot to scold. The broken dishes were piled 
up and the carpet made clean again, while 
Aunt Izzie prepared another tray just as nice 
as the first. 

“Please let Katy bring it up!” pleaded 
Cousin Helen, in her pleasant voice, “ I am 
sure she will be careful this time. And Katy, 
I want just such another rose on the napkin. 
I guess that was your doing — wasn’t it“? ” 

Katy was careful. — This time all went 
well. The tray was placed safely on a little 
table beside the bed, and Katy sat watching 
Cousin Helen eat her supper with a warm, 
loving feeling at her heart. I think we are 
scarcely ever so grateful to people as when 
they help us to get back our own self-esteem. 

Cousin Helen hadn’t much appetite, though 
she declared everything was delicious. Katy 
could see that she was very tired. 

“ Now,” she said, when she had finished, 
“ if you’ll shake up this pillow, so; — and 
move this other pillow a little, I think I will 
settle myself to sleep. Thanks — that’s just 


126 


What Katy Did 

right. Why, Katy dear, you are a born nurse. 
Now kiss me. Good-night! To-morrow we 
will have a nice talk.” 

Katy went down stairs very happy. 
“ Cousin Helen’s perfectly lovely,” she told 
Clover. “ And she’s got on the most beautiful 
night-gown, all lace and ruffles. It’s just like 
a night-gown in a book.” 

“ Isn’t it wicked to care about clothes when 
you’re sick?” questioned Cecy. 

“ I don’t believe Cousin Helen could do 
anything wicked,” said Katy. 

“ I told Ma that she had on bracelets, and 
Ma said she feared your cousin was a worldly 
person,” retorted Cecy, primming up her lips. 

Katy and Clover were quite distressed 
at this opinion. They talked about it while 
they were undressing. , 

“ I mean to ask Cousin Helen to-morrow,” 
said Katy. 

Next morning the children got up very 
early. They were so glad that it was vaca¬ 
tion ! If it hadn’t been, they would have been 
forced to go to school without seeing Cousin 
Helen, for she didn’t wake till late. They 


Cousin Helen s Visit 127 

grew so impatient of the delay, and went up 
stairs so often to listen at the door, and see if 
she were moving, that Aunt Izzie finally had 
to order them off. Katy rebelled against this 
order a good deal, but she consoled herself by 
going into the garden and picking the prettiest 
flowers she could find, to give to Cousin Helen 
the moment she should see her. 

When Aunt Izzie let her go up, Cousin 
Helen was lying on the sofa all dressed for 
the day in a fresh blue muslin, with blue rib¬ 
bons, and cunning bronze slippers with ro¬ 
settes on the toes. The sofa had been wheeled 
round with its back to the light. There was 
a cushion with a pretty fluted cover, that Katy 
had never seen before, and several other 
things were scattered about, which gave the 
room quite a different air. All the house was 
neat, but somehow Aunt Izzie’s rooms never 
were pretty. Children’s eyes are quick to per¬ 
ceive such things, and Katy saw at once that 
the Blue-room had never looked like this. 

Cousin Helen was white and tired, but her 
eyes and smile were as bright as ever. She 


128 


What Katy Did 

was delighted with the flowers, which Katy 
presented rather shyly. 

“ Oh, how lovely! ” she said; “ I must put 
them in water right away. Katy dear, don’t 
you want to bring that little vase on the 
bureau and set it on this chair beside me? And 
please pour a little water into it first.” 

“ What a beauty! ” cried Katy, as she lifted 
the graceful white cup swung on a gilt stand. 
“ Is it yours, Cousin Helen? ” 

“ Yes, it is my pet vase. It stands on a 
little table beside me at home, and I fancied 
that the Water Cure would seem more home¬ 
like if I had it with me there, so I brought 
it along. But why do you look so puzzled, 
Katy? Does it seem queer that a vase should 
travel about in a trunk? ” 

“ No,” said Katy, slowly, “ I was only 
thinking — Cousin Helen, is it worldly to 
have pretty things when you’re sick? ” 

Cousin Helen laughed heartily. 

“ What put that idea into your head? ” she 
asked. 

“ Cecy said so when I told her about your 
beautiful night-gown.” 


Cousin Helens Visit 129 

Cousin Helen laughed again. 

“Well,” she said, “I’ll tell you what I 
think, Katy. Pretty things are no more 
‘ worldly ’ than ugly ones, except when they 
spoil us by making us vain, or careless of the 
comfort of other people. And sickness is such 
a disagreeable thing in itself, that unless sick 
people take great pains, they soon grow to be 
eyesores to themselves and everybody about 
them. I don’t think it is possible for an in¬ 
valid to be too particular. And when one has 
the back-ache, and the head-ache, and the all- 
over ache,” she added, smiling, “ there isn’t 
much danger of growing vain because of a 
ruffle more or less on one’s night-gown, or a 
bit of bright ribbon.” 

Then she began to arrange the flowers, 
touching each separate one gently, and as if 
she loved it. 

“ What a queer noise! ” she exclaimed, sud¬ 
denly stopping. 

It was queer — a sort of snuffling and snort¬ 
ing sound, as if a walrus or a sea-horse were 
promenading up and down in the hall. Katy 
opened the door. Behold! there were John 


130 What Katy Did 

and Dorry, very red in the face from flatten¬ 
ing their noses against the key-hole, in a vain 
attempt to see if Cousin Helen were up and 
ready to receive company. 

“ Oh, let them come in!” cried Cousin 
Helen from her sofa. 

So they came in, followed, before long, by 
Clover and Elsie. Such a merry morning as 
they had! Cousin Helen proved to possess a 
perfect genius for story-telling, and for sug¬ 
gesting games which could be played about 
her sofa, and did not make more noise than 
she could bear. Aunt Izzie, dropping in about 
eleven o’clock, found them having such a good 
time, that almost before she knew it, she was 
drawn into the game too. Nobody had ever 
heard of such a thing before! There sat Aunt 
Izzie on the floor, with three long lamp¬ 
lighters stuck in her hair, playing, “ I’m a gen¬ 
teel Lady, always genteel,” in the j oiliest 
manner possible. The children were so en¬ 
chanted at the spectacle, that they could 
hardly attend to the game, and were always 
forgetting how many “ horns ” they had. 
Clover privately thought that Cousin Helen 


Cousin Helens Visit 131 

must be a witch; and Papa, when he came 
home at noon, said almost the same thing. 

“ What have you been doing to them, 
Helen ? ” he inquired, as he opened the door, 
and saw the merry circle on the carpet. Aunt 
Izzie’s hair was half pulled down, and Philly 
was rolling over and over in convulsions of 
laughter. But Cousin Helen said she hadn’t 
done anything, and pretty soon Papa was on 
the floor too, playing away as fast as the rest. 

“ I must put a stop to this,” he cried, when 
everybody was tired of laughing, and every¬ 
body’s head was stuck as full of paper quills 
as a porcupine’s back. “ Cousin Helen will be 
worn out. Run away, all of you, and don’t 
come near this door again till the clock strikes 
four. Do you hear, chicks? Run — run! 
Shoo! shoo! ” 

The children scuttled away like a brood of 
fowls — all but Katy. “ Oh, Papa, I’ll be so 
quiet! ” she pleaded. “ Mightn’t I stay just 
till the dinner-bell rings? ” 

“ Do let her! ” said Cousin Helen, so Papa 
said “ Yes.” 

Katy sat on the floor holding Cousin 


132 What Katy Did 

Helen’s hand, and listening to her talk with 
Papa. It interested her, though it was about 
things and people she did not know. 

“How is Alex?” asked Dr. Carr, at 
length. 

“ Quite well now,” replied Cousin Helen, 
with one of her brightest looks. “ He was run 
down and tired in the Spring, and we were a 
little anxious about him, but Emma persuaded 
him to take a fortnight’s vacation, and he 
came back all right.” 

“ Do you see them often? ” 

“ Almost every day. And little Helen 
comes every day, you know, for her lessons.” 

“ Is she as pretty as she used to be? ” 

“ Oh yes — prettier, I think. She is a 
lovely little creature: having her so much with 
me is one of my greatest treats. Alex tries to 
think that she looks a little as I used to. But 
that is a compliment so great, that I dare not 
appropriate it.” 

Dr. Carr stooped and kissed Cousin Helen 
as if he could not help it. “ My dear child,” 
he said. That was all; but something in the 
tone made Katy curious. 


Cousin Helens Visit 133 

“ Papa,” she said, after dinner, “ who is 
Alex, that you and Cousin Helen were talking 
about? ” 

“Why, Katy? What makes you want 
to know? ” 

“ I can’t exactly tell — only Cousin Helen 
looked so; — and you kissed her; — and I 
thought perhaps it was something inter¬ 
esting.” 

“So it is,” said Dr. Carr, drawing her on 
to his knee. “ I’ve a mind to tell you about 
it, Katy, because you’re old enough to see how 
beautiful it is, and wise enough (I hope) not 
to chatter or ask questions. Alex is the name 
of somebody who, long ago, when Cousin 
Helen was well and strong, she loved, and 
expected to marry.” 

“ Oh! why didn’t she? ” cried Katy. 

“ She met with a dreadful accident,” con¬ 
tinued Dr. Carr. “ For a long time they 
thought she would die. Then she grew slowly 
better, and the doctors told her that she might 
live a good many years, but that she would 
have to lie on her sofa always, and be helpless, 
and a cripple. 


134 


What Katy Did 

“ Alex felt dreadfully when he heard this. 
He wanted to marry Cousin Helen just the 
same, and be her nurse, and take care of her 
always; but she would not consent. She broke 
the engagement, and told him that some day 
she hoped he would love somebody else well 
enough to marry her. So after a good many 
years, he did, and now he and his wife live 
next door to Cousin Helen, and are her dear¬ 
est friends. Their little girl is named 
‘ Helen/ All their plans are talked over with 
her, and there is nobody in the world they 
think so much of.” 

“ But doesn’t it make Cousin Helen feel 
bad, when she sees them walking about and 
enjoying themselves, and she can’t move?” 
asked Katy. 

“ No,” said Dr. Carr, “ it doesn’t, because 
Cousin Helen is half an angel already, and 
loves other people better than herself. I’m 
very glad she could come here for once. She’s 
an example to us all, Katy, and I couldn’t ask 
anything better than to have my little girls 
take pattern after her.” 

“ It must be awful to be sick,” soliloquized 


Cousin Helens Visit 


135 


Katy, after Papa was gone. “ Why, if I had 
to stay in bed a whole week — I should die , I 
know I should.” 

Poor Katy. It seemed to her, as it does to 
almost all young people, that there is nothing 
in the world so easy as to die, the moment 
things go wrong! 

This conversation with Papa made Cousin 
Helen doubly interesting in Katy’s eyes. “ It 
was just like something in a book,” to be in 
the same house with the heroine of a love-story 
so sad and sweet. 

The play that afternoon was much inter¬ 
rupted, for every few minutes somebody had 
to run in and see if it wasn’t four o’clock. The 
instant the hour came, all six children gal¬ 
loped up stairs. 

“ I think we’ll tell stories this time,” said 
Cousin Helen. 

So they told stories. Cousin Helen’s were 
the best of all. There was one of them about 
a robber, which sent delightful chills creeping 
down all their backs. All but Philly. He was 
so excited, that he grew warlike. 

“ I ain’t afraid of robbers,” he declared, 


136 What Katy Did 

strutting up and down. “ When they come, I 
shall just cut them in two with my sword 
which Papa gave me. They did come once. 
I did cut them in two — three, five, eleven of 
’em. You’ll see!” 

But that evening, after the younger chil¬ 
dren were gone to bed, and Katy and Clover 
were sitting in the Blue-room, a lamentable 
howling was heard from the nursery. Clover 
ran to see what was the matter. Behold — 
there was Phil, sitting up in bed, and crying 
for help. 

“ There’s robbers under the bed,” he 
sobbed; “ ever so many robbers.” 

“Why no, Philly!” said Clover, peeping 
under the valance to satisfy him; “ there isn’t 
anybody there.” 

“Yes, there is, I tell you,” declared Phil, 
holding her tight. “ I heard one. They were 
chewing my india-rubbers .” 

“Poor little fellow! ” said Cousin Helen, 
when Clover, having pacified Phil, came back 
to report. “ It’s a warning against robber 
stories. But this one ended so well, that I 
didn’t think of anybody’s being frightened.” 


Cousin Helens Visit 137 

It was no use, after this, for Aunt Izzie to 
make rules about going into the Blue-room. 
She might as well have ordered flies to keep 
away from a sugar-bowl. By hook or by crook, 
the children would get up stairs. Whenever 
Aunt Izzie went in, she was sure to find them 
there, just as close to Cousin Helen as they 
could get. And Cousin Helen begged her not 
to interfere. 

“ We have only three or four days to be 
together,” she said. “ Let them come as much 
as they like. It won’t hurt me a bit.” 

Little Elsie clung with a passionate love to 
this new friend. Cousin Helen had sharp eyes. 
She saw the wistful look in Elsie’s face at 
once, and took special pains to be sweet and 
tender to her. This preference made Katy 
jealous. She couldn’t bear to share her cousin 
with anybody. 

When the last evening came, and they went 
up after tea to the Blue-room, Cousin Helen 
was opening a box which had just come by 
Express. 

“ It is a Good-by Box,” she said. “ All of 
you must sit down in a row, and when I hide 


138 What Katy Did 

my hands behind me, so , you must choose in 
turn which you will take.” 

So they all chose in turn, “ Which hand will 
you have, the right or the left? ” and Cousin 
Helen, with the air of a wise fairy, brought out 
from behind her pillow something pretty for 
each one. First came a vase exactly like her 
own, which Katy had admired so much. Katy 
screamed with delight as it was placed in her 
hands : 

“ Oh, how lovely! how lovely! ” she cried. 
“ I’ll keep it as long as I live and breathe.” 

“ If you do, it’ll be the first time you ever 
kept anything for a week without breaking it,” 
remarked Aunt Izzie. 

Next came a pretty purple pocket-book for 
Clover. It was just what she wanted, for she 
had lost her porte-monnaie. Then a cunning 
little locket on a bit of velvet ribbon, which 
Cousin Helen tied round Elsie’s neck. 

“ There’s a piece of my hair in it,” she said. 
“Why, Elsie, darling, what’s the matter? 
Don’t cry so! ” 

“ Oh, you’re s-o beautiful, and s-o sweet! ” 
sobbed Elsie; “ and you’re go-o-ing away.” 



Katy rushed off to (( weep a little weepff all by herself. 

Page 139. 














































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» nl.^H 











Cousin Helens Visit 139 

Dorry had a box of dominoes, and John a 
solitaire board. For Phil there appeared a 
book — “ The History of the Robber Cat.” 

“ That will remind you of the night when 
the thieves came and chewed your india-rub¬ 
bers,” said Cousin Helen, with a mischievous 
smile. They all laughed, Phil loudest of all. 

Nobody was forgotten. There was a note¬ 
book for Papa, and a set of ivory tablets for 
Aunt Izzie. Even Cecy was remembered. 
Her present was “ The Book of Golden 
Deeds,” with all sorts of stories about boys 
and girls who had done brave and good things. 
She was almost too pleased to speak. 

" Oh, thank you, Cousin Helen! ” she said 
at last. Cecy wasn’t a cousin, but she and the 
Carr children were in the habit of sharing 
their aunts and uncles, and relations gen¬ 
erally, as they did their other good things. 

Next day came the sad parting. All the 
little ones stood at the gate, to wave their 
pocket-handkerchiefs as the carriage drove 
away. When it was quite out of sight, Katy 
rushed off to “ weep a little weep,” all by her¬ 
self. 


140 What Katy Did 

“ Papa said he wished we were all like 
Cousin Helen,” she thought, as she wiped her 
eyes, “ and I mean to try, though I don’t sup¬ 
pose if I tried a thousand years I should ever 
get to be half so good. I’ll study, and keep 
my things in order, and be ever so kind to the 
little ones. Dear me — if only Aunt Izzie 
was Cousin Helen, how easy it would be! 
Never mind — I’ll think about her all the 
time, and I’ll begin to-morrow.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


TO-MORROW 

“To-morrow I will begin, 5 ’ thought Katy, 
as she dropped asleep that night. How often 
we all do so! And what a pity it is that when 
morning comes and to-morrow is to-day, we 
so frequently wake up feeling quite differ¬ 
ently; careless or impatient, and not a bit in¬ 
clined to do the fine things we planned over¬ 
night. 

Sometimes it seems as if there must be 
wicked little imps in the world, who are kept 
tied up so long as the sun shines, but who 
creep into our bed-rooms when we are asleep, 
to tease us and ruffle our tempers. Else, why, 
when we go to rest good-natured and pleasant, 
should we wake up so cross? Now there was 
Katy. Her last sleepy thought was an inten¬ 
tion to be an angel from that time on, and as 
much like Cousin Helen as she could; and 
when she opened her eyes she was all out of 


142 


What Katy Did 

sorts, and as fractious as a bear! Old Mary 
said that she got out of bed on the wrong side. 
I wonder, by the way, if anybody will ever be 
wise enough to tell us which side that is, so 
that we may always choose the other? How 
comfortable it would be if they could! 

You know how, if we begin the day in 
a cross mood, all sorts of unfortunate accidents 
seem to occur to add to our vexations. The 
very first thing Katy did this morning was to 
break her precious vase — the one Cousin 
Helen had given her. 

It was standing on the bureau with a little 
cluster of blush-roses in it. The bureau had a 
swing-glass. While Katy was brushing her 
hair, the glass tipped a little so that she could 
not see. At a good-humored moment, this ac¬ 
cident wouldn’t have troubled her much. But 
being out of temper to begin with, it made her 
angry. She gave the glass a violent push. 
The lower part swung forward, there was a 
smash, and the first thing Katy knew, the 
blush-roses lay scattered all over the floor, and 
Cousin Helen’s pretty present was ruined. 

Katy just sat down on the carpet and cried 


To-Morrow 143 

as hard as if she had been Phil himself. Aunt 
Izzie heard her lamenting, and came in. 

“ I’m very sorry,” she said, picking up the 
broken glass, “ but it’s no more than I ex¬ 
pected, you’re so careless, Katy. Now don’t 
sit there in that foolish way! Get up and dress 
yourself. You’ll be late to breakfast.” 

“What’s the matter 4 ?” asked Papa, no¬ 
ticing Katy’s red eyes as she took her seat at 
the table. 

“ I’ve broken my vase,” said Katy, dole¬ 
fully. 

“ It was extremely careless of you to put it 
in such a dangerous place,” said her aunt. 
“ You might have known that the glass would 
swing and knock it off.” Then, seeing a big 
tear fall in the middle of Katy’s plate, she 
added: “ Really, Katy, you’re too big to 

behave like a baby. Why Dorry would be 
ashamed to do so. Pray control yourself! ” 

This snub did not improve Katy’s temper. 
She went on with her breakfast in sulky 
silence. 

“ What are you all going to do to-day? ” 


144 What Katy Did 

asked Dr. Carr, hoping to give things a more 
cheerful turn. 

“ Swing! ” cried John and Dorry both to¬ 
gether. “ Alexander’s put us up a splendid 
one in the wood-shed.” 

“ No you’re not,” said Aunt Izzie in a posi¬ 
tive tone, “ the swing is not to be used till to¬ 
morrow. Remember that, children. Not till 
to-morrow. And not then, unless I give you 
leave.” 

This was unwise of Aunt Izzie. She would 
better have explained farther. The truth 
was, that Alexander, in putting up the swing, 
had cracked one of the staples which fastened 
it to the roof. He meant to get a new one in 
the course of the day, and, meantime, he had 
cautioned Miss Carr to let no one use the 
swing, because it really was not safe. If she 
had told this to the children, all would have 
been right; but Aunt Izzie’s theory was, that 
young people must obey their elders without 
explanation. 

John, and Elsie, and Dorry, all pouted 
when they heard this order. Elsie recovered 
her good-humor first. 


To-Morrow 


145 


“ I don’t care,” she said, “ ’cause I’m going 
to be very busy; I’ve got to write a letter to 
Cousin Helen about somefing.” (Elsie never 
could quite pronounce the th.) 

“ What? ” asked Clover. 

“ Oh, somefing,” answered Elsie, wagging 
her head mysteriously. “ None of the rest of 
you must know, Cousin Helen said so, it’s a 
secret she and me has got.” 

“ I don’t believe Cousin Helen said so at 
all,” said Katy, crossly. “ She wouldn’t tell 
secrets to a silly little girl like you.” 

“ Yes she would too,” retorted Elsie an¬ 
grily. “ She said I was just as good to trust 
as if I was ever so big. And she said I was 
her pet. So there! Katy Carr! ” 

“ Stop disputing,” said Aunt Izzie. “ Katy 
your top-drawer is all out of order. I never 
saw anything look so badly. Go up stairs at 
once and straighten it, before you do anything 
else. Children, you must keep in the shade 
this morning. It’s too hot for you to be run¬ 
ning about in the sun. Elsie, go into the 
kitchen and tell Debby I want to speak to 
her.” 


146 What Katy Did 

“Yes,” said Elsie, in an important tone. 
“ And afterwards I’m coming back to write 
my letter to Cousin Helen.” 

Katy went slowly up stairs, dragging one 
foot after the other. It was a warm, languid 
day. Her head ached a little, and her eyes 
smarted and felt heavy from crying so much. 
Everything seemed dull and hateful. She 
said to herself, that Aunt Izzie was very un¬ 
kind to make her work in vacation, and she 
pulled the top-drawer open with a disgusted 
groan. 

It must be confessed that Miss Izzie was 
right. A bureau-drawer could hardly look 
worse than this one did. It reminded one of 
the White Knight’s recipe for a pudding, 
which began with blotting-paper, and ended 
with sealing-wax and gunpowder. All sorts 
of things were mixed together, as if somebody 
had put in a long stick and stirred them well 
up. There were books and paint-boxes and 
bits of scribbled paper, and lead-pencils and 
brushes. Stocking-legs had come unrolled, 
and twisted themselves about pocket-handker¬ 
chiefs, and ends of ribbon, and linen collars. 


To-Morrow 


147 


Ruffles, all crushed out of shape, stuck up from 
under the heavier things, and sundry little 
paper boxes lay empty on top, the treasures 
they once held having sifted down to the bot¬ 
tom of the drawer, and disappeared beneath 
the general mass. 

It took much time and patience to bring 
order out of this confusion. But Katy knew 
that Aunt Izzie would be up by and by, and 
she dared not stop till all was done. By the 
time it was finished, she was very tired. 
Going down stairs, she met Elsie coming up 
with a slate in her hand, which, as soon as she 
saw Katy, she put behind her. 

“ You mustn’t look,” she said, “ it’s my let¬ 
ter to Cousin Helen. Nobody but me knows 
the secret. It’s all written, and I’m going to 
send it to the office. See — there’s a stamp 
on it; ” and she exhibited a corner of the slate. 
Sure enough, there was a stamp stuck on the 
frame. 

“You little goose!” said Katy, impa¬ 
tiently, “ you can’t send that to the post-office. 
Here, give me the slate. I’ll copy what you’ve 


148 What Katy Did 

written on paper, and Papa’ll give you an en¬ 
velope.” 

“ No, no,” cried Elsie, struggling, “ you 
mustn’t! You’ll see what I’ve said and 
Cousin Helen said I wasn’t to tell. It’s a 
secret. Let go of my slate, I say! I’ll tell 
Cousin Helen what a mean girl you are, and 
then she won’t love you a bit.” 

“ There, then, take your old slate! ” said 
Katy, giving her a vindictive push. Elsie 
slipped, screamed, caught at the banisters, 
missed them, and rolling over and over, fell 
with a thump on the hall floor. 

It wasn’t much of a fall, only half-a-dozen 
steps, but the bump was a hard one, and Elsie 
roared as if she had been half killed. Aunt 
Izzie and Mary came rushing to the spot. 

“ Katy — pushed — me,” sobbed Elsie. 
“ She wanted me to tell her my secret, and 
I wouldn’t. She’s a bad, naughty girl! ” 

“ Well, Katy Carr, I should think you’d 
be ashamed of yourself,” said Aunt Izzie, 
“ wreaking your temper on your poor little 
sister! I think your Cousin Helen will be sur¬ 
prised when she hears this. There, there, 


T o-Morrow 


149 

Elsie! Don’t cry any more, dear. Come up 
stairs with me. I’ll put on some arnica, and 
Katy sha’n’t hurt you again.” 

So they went up stairs. Katy, left below, 
felt very miserable: repentant, defiant, dis¬ 
contented, and sulky all at once. She knew in 
her heart that she had not meant to hurt Elsie, 
but was thoroughly ashamed of that push; but 
Aunt Izzie’s hint about telling Cousin Helen, 
had made her too angry to allow of her con¬ 
fessing this to herself or anybody else. 

“ I don’t care!” she murmured, choking 
back her tears. “ Elsie is a real cry-baby, any¬ 
way. And Aunt Izzie always takes her part. 
Just because I told the little silly not to go 
and send a great heavy slate to the post- 
office! ” 

She went out by the side-door into the yard. 
As she passed the shed, the new swing caught 
her eye. 

“ How exactly like Aunt Izzie,” she 
thought, “ ordering the children not to swing 
till she gives them leave. I suppose she thinks 
it’s too hot, or something. I sha’n’t mind her, 
anyhow.” 


150 


What Katy Did 

She seated herself in the swing. It was a 
first-rate one, with a broad, comfortable seat, 
and thick new ropes. The seat hung just the 
right distance from the floor. Alexander was 
a capital hand at putting up swings, and the 
wood-shed the nicest possible spot in which 
to have one. 

It was a big place, with a very high roof. 
There was not much wood left in it just now, 
and the little there was, was piled neatly 
about the sides of the shed, so as to leave 
plenty of room. The place felt cool and dark, 
and the motion of the swing seemed to set the 
breeze blowing. It waved Katy’s hair like 
a great fan, and made her dreamy and quiet. 
All sorts of sleepy ideas began to flit through 
her brain. Swinging to and fro like the pen¬ 
dulum of a great clock, she gradually rose 
higher and higher, driving herself along by 
the motion of her body, and striking the floor 
smartly with her foot, at every sweep. Now 
she was at the top of the high arched door. 
Then she could almost touch the cross-beam 
above it, and through the small square window 
could see pigeons sitting and pluming them- 


T o-Morrow 


151 

selves on the eaves of the barn, and white 
clouds blowing over the blue sky. She had 
never swung so high before. It was like flying, 
she thought, and she bent and curved more 
strongly in the seat, trying to send herself yet 
higher, and graze the roof with her toes. 

Suddenly, at the very highest point of the 
sweep, there was a sharp noise of cracking. 
The swing gave a violent twist, spun half 
round, and tossed Katy into the air. She 
clutched the rope, — felt it dragged from 
her grasp, — then, down, — down — down — 
she fell. All grew dark, and she knew no 
more. 

When she opened her eyes she was lying on 
the sofa in the dining-room. Clover was 
kneeling beside her with a pale, scared face, 
and Aunt Izzie was dropping something cold 
and wet on her forehead. 

“ What’s the matter?” said Katy, faintly. 

“ Oh, she’s alive — she’s alive! ” and 
Clover put her arms round Katy’s neck and 
sobbed. 

“ Hush, dear! ” Aunt Izzie’s voice sounded 


152 What Katy Did 

unusually gentle. “ You’ve had a bad tum¬ 
ble, Katy. Don’t you recollect'? ” 

“ A tumble? Oh, yes — out of the swing,” 
said Katy, as it all came slowly back to her. 
“Did the rope break, Aunt Izzie? I can’t 
remember about it.” 

“ No, Katy, not the rope. The staple drew 
out of the roof. It was a cracked one, and not 
safe. Don’t you recollect my telling you not 
to swing to-day? Did you forget? ” 

“ No, Aunt Izzie — I didn’t forget. I — ” 
but here Katy broke down. She closed her 
eyes, and big tears rolled from under the lids. 

“ Don’t cry,” whispered Clover, crying her¬ 
self, “ please don’t. Aunt Izzie isn’t going to 
scold you.” But Katy was too weak and 
shaken not to cry. 

“ I think I’d like to go up stairs and lie on 
the bed,” she said. But when she tried to get 
off the sofa, everything swam before her, and 
she fell back again on the pillow. 

“ Why, I can’t stand up! ” she gasped, look¬ 
ing very much frightened. 

“ I’m afraid you’ve given yourself a sprain 
somewhere,” said Aunt Izzie, who looked 


To-Morrow 


153 

rather frightened herself. “ You’d better lie 
still a while, dear, before you try to move. Ah, 
here’s the doctor! well, I am glad.” And she 
went forward to meet him. It wasn’t Papa, 
but Dr. Alsop, who lived quite near them. 

“ I am so relieved that you could come,” 
Aunt Izzie said. “ My brother is gone out of 
town not to return till to-morrow, and one of 
the little girls has had a bad fall.” 

Dr. Alsop sat down beside the sofa and 
counted Katy’s pulse. Then he began feeling 
all over her. 

“Can you move this leg? ” he asked. 

Katy gave a feeble kick. 

“And this?” 

The kick was a good deal more feeble. 

“ Did that hurt you? ” asked Dr. Alsop, see¬ 
ing a look of pain on her face. 

“ Yes, a little,” replied Katy, trying hard 
not to cry. 

“In your back, eh? Was the pain high 
up or low down? ” And the doctor punched 
Katy’s spine for some minutes, making her 
squirm uneasily. 

“ I’m afraid she’s done some mischief,” he 


154 


What Katy Did 

said at last, “ but it’s impossible to tell yet 
exactly what. It may be only a twist, or a 
slight sprain,” he added, seeing the look of 
terror on Katy’s face. “ You’d better get her 
up stairs and undress her as soon as you can, 
Miss Carr. I’ll leave a prescription to rub her 
with.” And Dr. Alsop took out a bit of paper 
and began to write. 

“Oh, must I go to bed?” said Katy. 
“ How long will I have to stay there, doc¬ 
tor?” 

“ That depends on how fast you get well,” 
replied the doctor; “not long, I hope. Per¬ 
haps only a few days. 

“ A few days! ” repeated Katy, in a despair¬ 
ing tone. 

After the doctor was gone, Aunt Izzie and 
Debby lifted Katy, and carried her slowly up 
stairs. It was not easy, for every motion hurt 
her, and the sense of being helpless hurt most 
of all. She couldn’t help crying after she was 
undressed and put into bed. It all seemed so 
dreadful and strange. If only Papa was here, 
she thought. But Dr. Carr had gone into the 


T o-Morrow 


155 


country to see somebody who was very sick, 
and couldn’t possibly be back till to-morrow. 

Such a long, long afternoon as that was! 
Aunt Izzie sent up some dinner, but Katy 
couldn’t eat. Her lips were parched and her 
head ached violently. The sun began to pour 
in, the room grew warm. Flies buzzed in the 
window, and tormented her by lighting on her 
face. Little prickles of pain ran up and down 
her back. She lay with her eyes shut, because 
it hurt to keep them open, and all sorts of un¬ 
easy thoughts went rushing through her mind. 

“ Perhaps, if my back is really sprained, I 
shall have to lie here as much as a week,” she 
said to herself. “ Oh dear, dear! I can't. 
The vacation is only eight weeks, and I was 
going to do such lovely things! How can peo¬ 
ple be as patient as Cousin Helen when they 
have to lie still? Won’t she be sorry when she 
hears! Was it really yesterday that she went 
away? It seems a year. If only I hadn’t got 
into that nasty old swing! ” And then Katy 
began to imagine how it would have been if 
she hadn't , and how she and Clover had meant 
to go to Paradise that afternoon. They might 


156 What Katy Did 

have been there under the cool trees now. As 
these thoughts ran through her mind, her head 
grew hotter and her position in the bed more 
uncomfortable. 

Suddenly she became conscious that the 
glaring light from the window was shaded, 
and that the wind seemed to be blowing 
freshly over her. She opened her heavy eyes. 
The blinds were shut, and there beside the bed 
sat little Elsie, fanning her with a palm-leaf 
fan. 

“ Did I wake you up, Katy? ” she asked in 
a timid voice. 

Katy looked at her with startled, amazed 
eyes. 

“ Don’t be frightened,” said Elsie, “ I 
won’t disturb you. Johnnie and me are so 
sorry you’re sick,” and her little lips trem¬ 
bled. “ But we mean to keep real quiet, and 
never bang the nursery door, or make noises on 
the stairs, till you’re well again. And I’ve 
brought you somefing real nice. Some of it’s 
from John, and some from me. It’s because 
you got tumbled out of the swing. See — ” 
and Elsie pointed triumphantly to a chair, 


To-Morrow 


157 

which she had pulled up close to the bed, and 
on which were solemnly set forth: 1st. A 
pewter tea-set; 2d. A box with a glass lid, on 
which flowers were painted; 3d. A jointed 
doll; 4th. A transparent slate; and lastly, two 
new lead pencils! 

“ They’re all yours — yours to keep,” said 
generous little Elsie. “ You can have Pikery, 
too, if you want. Only he’s pretty big, and 
I’m afraid he’d be lonely without me. Don’t 
you like the fings, Katy? They’re real 
pretty! ” 

It seemed to Katy as if the hottest sort of 
a coal of fire was burning into the top of her 
head as she looked at the treasures on the chair, 
and then at Elsie’s face all lighted up with 
affectionate self-sacrifice. She tried to speak, 
but began to cry instead, which frightened 
Elsie very much. 

“ Does it hurt you so bad? ” she asked, cry¬ 
ing, too, from sympathy. 

“ Oh, no! it isn’t that” sobbed Katy, “but 
I was so cross to you this morning, Elsie, and 
pushed you. Oh, please forgive me, please 
do!” 


158 What Katy Did 

“ Why, it’s got well! 55 said Elsie, surprised. 
“ Aunt Izzie put a fing out of a bottle on it, 
and the bump all went away. Shall I go and 
ask her to put some on you too — I will. 5 ’ And 
she ran toward the door. 

“Oh, no! 55 cried Katy, “don’t go away, 
Elsie. Come here and kiss me, instead.” 

Elsie turned as if doubtful whether this in¬ 
vitation could be meant for her. Katy held 
out her arms. Elsie ran right into them, and 
the big sister and the little, exchanged an em¬ 
brace which seemed to bring their hearts closer 
together than they had ever been before. 

“You’re the most precious little darling,” 
murmured Katy, clasping Elsie tight. “I’ve 
been real horrid to you, Elsie. But I’ll never 
be again. You shall play with me and Clover, 
and Cecy, just as much as you like, and write 
notes in all the post-offices, and everything 
else.” 

“Oh, goody! goody!” cried Elsie, exe¬ 
cuting little skips of transport. “ How sweet 
you are, Katy! I mean to love you next best 
to Cousin Helen and Papa! And ” — racking 
her brains for some way of repaying this won- 


To-Morrow 


159 

derful kindness — “ I’ll tell you the secret, if 
you want me to very much. I guess Cousin 
Helen would let me.” 

“ No! ” said Katy; “ never mind about the 
secret. I don’t want you to tell it to me. Sit 
down by the bed, and fan me some more in¬ 
stead.” 

“ No! ” persisted Elsie, who, now that she 
had made up her mind to part with the treas¬ 
ured secret, could not bear to be stopped. 
“ Cousin Helen gave me a half-dollar, and 
told me to give it to Debby, and tell her she 
was much obliged to her for making her such 
nice things to eat. And I did. And Debby 
was real pleased. And I wrote Cousin Helen 
a letter, and told her that Debby liked the 
half-dollar. That’s the secret! Isn’t it a nice 
one? Only you mustn’t tell anybody about 
it, ever — just as long as you live.” 

“No!” said Katy, smiling faintly, “I 
won’t.” 

All the rest of the afternoon Elsie sat beside 
the bed with her palm-leaf fan, keeping off 
the flies, and “shue ”-ing away the other chil¬ 
dren when they peeped in at the door. “ Do 


160 What Katy Did 

you really like to have me here? ” she asked, 
more than once, and smiled, oh, so trium¬ 
phantly! when Katy said “Yes!” But 
though Katy said yes, I am afraid it was only 
half the truth, for the sight of the dear little 
forgiving girl, whom she had treated un¬ 
kindly, gave her more pain than pleasure. 

“ I’ll be so good to her when I get well,” she 
thought to herself, tossing uneasily to and fro. 

Aunt Izzie slept in her room that night. 
Katy was feverish. When morning came, and 
Dr. Carr returned, he found her in a good deal 
of pain, hot and restless, with wide-open, anx¬ 
ious eyes. 

“Papa!” she cried the first thing, “must 
I lie here as much as a week? ” 

“ My darling, Pm afraid you must,” re¬ 
plied her father, who looked worried, and very 
grave. 

“Dear, dear!” sobbed Katy, “how can I 
bear it? ” 


CHAPTER IX 


DISMAL DAYS 

If anybody had told Katy, that first after¬ 
noon, that at the end of a week she would still 
be in bed, and in pain, and with no time fixed 
for getting up, I think it would have almost 
killed her. She was so restless and eager, that 
to lie still seemed one of the hardest things in 
the world. But to lie still and have her back 
ache all the time, was worse yet. Day after 
day she asked Papa with quivering lip: 
“ Mayn’t I get up and go down stairs this 
morning? ” And when he shook his head, the 
lip would quiver more, and tears would come. 
But if she tried to get up, it hurt her so much, 
that in spite of herself she was glad to sink 
back again on the soft pillows and mattress, 
which felt so comfortable to her poor bones. 

Then there came a time when Katy didn’t 
even ask to be allowed to get up. A time when 
sharp, dreadful pain, such as she never imag- 


162 


What Katy Did 

ined before, took hold of her. When days and 
nights got all confused and tangled up to¬ 
gether, and Aunt Izzie never seemed to go to 
bed. A time when Papa was constantly in her 
room. When other doctors came and stood 
over her, and punched and felt her back, and 
talked to each other in low whispers. It was 
all like a long, bad dream, from which she 
couldn’t wake up, though she tried ever so 
hard. Now and then she would rouse a little, 
and catch the sound of voices, or be aware that 
Clover or Elsie stood at the door, crying 
softly; or that Aunt Izzie, in creaking slippers, 
was going about the room on tiptoe. Then all 
these things would slip away again, and she 
would drop off into a dark place, where there 
was nothing but pain, and sleep, which made 
her forget pain, and so seemed the best thing 
in the world. 

We will hurry over this time, for it is hard 
to think of our bright Katy in such a sad 
plight. By and by the pain grew less, and the 
sleep quieter. Then, as the pain became easier 
still, Katy woke up as it were — began to take 


Dismal Days 163 

notice of what was going on about her; to put 
questions. 

“ How long have I been sick? ” she asked 
one morning. 

“It is four weeks yesterday,” said Papa. 

“Four weeks!” said Katy. “Why, I 
didn’t know it was so long as that. Was I 
very sick, Papa? ” 

“ Very, dear. But you are a great deal bet¬ 
ter now.” 

“ How did I hurt me when I tumbled out 
of the swing? ” asked Katy, who was in an 
unusually wakeful mood. 

“ I don’t believe I could make you under¬ 
stand, dear.” 

“ But try, Papa! ” 

“ Well — did you know that you had a long 
bone down your back, called a spine? ” 

“ I thought that was a disease,” said Katy. 
“ Clover said that Cousin Helen had the 
spine! ” 

“ No — the spine is a bone. It is made up 
of a row of smaller bones — or knobs — and 
in the middle of it is a sort of rope of nerves 
called the spinal cord. Nerves, you know, are 


164 What Katy Did 

the things we feel with. Well, this spinal cord 
is rolled up for safe keeping in a soft wrap¬ 
ping, called membrane. When you fell out of 
the swing, you struck against one of these 
knobs, and bruised the membrane inside, and 
the nerve inflamed, and gave you a fever in 
the back. Do you see? ” 

“A little,” said Katy, not quite under¬ 
standing, but too tired to question farther. 
After she had rested a while, she said: “ Is the 
fever well now, Papa? Can I get up again 
and go down stairs right away? ” 

“ Not right away, Pm afraid,” said Dr. 
Carr, trying to speak cheerfully. 

Katy didn’t ask any more questions then. 
Another week passed, and another. The pain 
was almost gone. It only came back now and 
then for a few minutes. She could sleep now, 
and eat, and be raised in bed without feeling 
giddy. But still the once active limbs hung 
heavy and lifeless, and she was not able to 
walk, or even stand alone. 

“ My legs feel so queer,” she said one morn¬ 
ing, “ they are just like the Prince’s legs which 
were turned to black marble in the Arabian 


Dismal Days 165 

Nights. What do you suppose is the reason, 
Papa? Won’t they feel natural soon?” 

“ Not soon,” answered Dr. Carr. Then he 
said to himself: “ Poor child! she had better 
know the truth.” So he went on, aloud, “ I 
am afraid, my darling, that you must make up 
your mind to stay in bed a long time.” 

“ How long? ” said Katy, looking fright¬ 
ened : “ a month more ? ” 

“ I can’t tell exactly how long,” answered 
her father. “ The doctors think, as I do, that 
the injury to your spine is one which you will 
outgrow by and by, because you are so young 
and strong. But it may take a good while to 
do it. It may be that you will have to lie here 
for months, or it may be more. The only cure 
for such a hurt is time and patience. It is hard, 
darling ” — for Katy began to sob wildly — 
“ but you have Hope to help you along. Think 
of poor Cousin Helen, bearing all these years 
without hope! ” 

“Oh, Papa!” gasped Katy, between her 
sobs, “ doesn’t it seem dreadful, that just get¬ 
ting into the swing for a few minutes should 


166 What Katy Did 

do so much harm? Such a little thing as 
that! ” 

“Yes, such a little thing!” repeated Dr. 
Carr, sadly. “ And it was only a little thing, 
too, forgetting Aunt Izzie’s order about the 
swing. Just for the want of the small c horse¬ 
shoe nail 5 of Obedience, Katy.” 

Years afterwards, Katy told somebody that 
the longest six weeks of her life were those 
which followed this conversation with Papa. 
Now that she knew there was no chance of get¬ 
ting well at once, the days dragged dread¬ 
fully. Each seemed duller and dismaller than 
the day before. She lost heart about herself, 
and took no interest in anything. Aunt Izzie 
brought her books, but she didn’t want to read, 
or to sew. Nothing amused her. Clover and 
Cecy would come and sit with her, but hearing 
them tell about their plays, and the things 
they had been doing, made her cry so miser¬ 
ably, that Aunt Izzie wouldn’t let them come 
often. They were very sorry for Katy, but the 
room was so gloomy, and Katy so cross, that 
they didn’t mind much not being allowed to 
see her. In those days Katy made Aunt Izzie 


Dismal Days 167 

keep the blinds shut tight, and she lay in the 
dark, thinking how miserable she was, and 
how wretched all the rest of her life was going 
to be. Everybody was very kind and patient 
with her, but she was too selfishly miserable 
to notice it. Aunt Izzie ran up and down 
stairs, and was on her feet all day, trying to 
get something which would please her, but 
Katy hardly said “ Thank you,” and never 
saw how tired Aunt Izzie looked. So long as 
she was forced to stay in bed, Katy could not 
be grateful for anything that was done for her. 

But doleful as the days were, they were not 
so bad as the nights, when, after Aunt Izzie 
was asleep, Katy would lie wide awake, and 
have long, hopeless fits of crying. At these 
times she would think of all the plans she had 
made for doing beautiful things when she was 
grown up. “ And now I shall never do any of 
them,” she would say to herself, “ only just 
lie here. Papa says I may get well by and by, 
but I sha’n’t, I know I sha’n’t. And even if I 
do, I shall have wasted all these years, and the 
others will grow up and get ahead of me, and 


i68 


What Katy Did 

I sha’n’t be a comfort to them or to anybody 
else. Oh dear! oh dear! how dreadful it is! ” 
The first thing which broke in upon this sad 
state of affairs, was a letter from Cousin 
Helen, which Papa brought one morning and 
handed to Aunt Izzie. 

“ Helen tells me she’s going home this 
week,” said Aunt Izzie, from the window, 
where she had gone to read the letter. “ Well, 
I’m sorry, but I think she’s quite right not to 
stop. It’s just as she says: one invalid at a 
time is enough in a house. I’m sure I have my 
hands full with Katy.” 

“ Oh, Aunt Izzie! ” cried Katy, “ is Cousin 
Helen coming this way when she goes home? 
Oh! do make her stop. If it’s just for one day, 
do ask her! I want to see her so much! I 
can’t tell you how much! Won’t you? Please! 
Please, dear Papa! ” 

She was almost crying with eagerness. 

“ Why, yes, darling, if you wish it so much,” 
said Dr. Carr. “ It will cost Aunt Izzie some 
trouble, but she’s so kind that I’m sure she’ll 
manage it if it is to give you so much pleasure. 


Dismal Days 169 

Can’t you, Izzie*? ” And he looked eagerly at 
his sister. 

“ Of course I will! ” said Miss Izzie, heart¬ 
ily. Katy was so glad, that, for the first time 
in her life, she threw her arms of her own ac¬ 
cord round Aunt Izzie’s neck, and kissed her. 

“ Thank you, dear Aunty! ” she said. 

Aunt Izzie looked as pleased as could be. 
She had a warm heart hidden under her fidgety 
ways — only Katy had never been sick before, 
to find it out. 

For the next week Katy was feverish with 
expectation. At last Cousin Helen came. 
This time Katy was not on the steps to wel¬ 
come her, but after a little while Papa brought 
Cousin Helen in his arms, and sat her in a big 
chair beside the bed. 

“ How dark it is! ” she said, after they had 
kissed each other and talked for a minute or 
two; “ I can’t see your face at all. Would it 
hurt your eyes to have a little more light*? ” 

“ Oh no! ” answered Katy. “ It don’t hurt 
my eyes, only I hate to have the sun come in. 
It makes me feel worse, somehow.” 


170 What Katy Did 

“ Push the blind open a little bit then, 
Clover; 5 ’ and Clover did so. 

“ Now I can see,” said Cousin Helen. 

It was a forlorn-looking child enough which 
she saw lying before her. Katy’s face had 
grown thin, and her eyes had red circles about 
them from continual crying. Her hair had 
been brushed twice that morning by Aunt 
Izzie, but Katy had run her fingers impa¬ 
tiently through it, till it stood out above her 
head like a frowsy bush. She wore a calico 
dressing-gown, which, though clean, was par¬ 
ticularly ugly in pattern; and the room, for all 
its tidiness, had a dismal look, with the chairs 
set up against the wall, and a row of medicine- 
bottles on the chimney-piece. 

“Isn’t it horrid?” sighed Katy, as Cousin 
Helen looked around. “ Everything’s horrid. 
But I don’t mind so much now that you’ve 
come. Oh, Cousin Helen, I’ve had such a 
dreadful, dreadful time! ” 

“ I know,” said her cousin, pityingly. “ I’ve 
heard all about it, Katy, and I’m so very sorry 
for you! It is a hard trial, my poor darling.” 

“But how do you do it?” cried Katy. 


Dismal Days 171 

“How do you manage to be so sweet and beau¬ 
tiful and patient, when you’re feeling badly 
all the time, and can’t do anything, or walk, or 
stand 1 ? ” — her voice was lost in sobs. 

Cousin Helen didn’t say anything for a lit¬ 
tle while. She just sat and stroked Katy’s 
hand. 

“ Katy,” she said at last, “ has Papa told 
you that he thinks you are going to get well 
by and by? ” 

“ Yes,” replied Katy, “ he did say so. But 
perhaps it won’t be for a long, long time. And 
I wanted to do so many things. And now I 
can’t do anything at all! ” 

“ What sort of things? ” 

“ Study, and help people, and become fa¬ 
mous. And I wanted to teach the children. 
Mamma said I must take care of them, and I 
meant to. And now I can’t go to school or 
learn anything myself. And if I ever do get 
well, the children will be almost grown up, 
and they won’t need me.” 

“ But why must you wait till you get 
well? ” asked Cousin Helen, smiling. 


172 What Katy Did 

“Why, Cousin Helen, what can I do lying 
here in bed? ” 

“ A good deal. Shall I tell you, Katy, what 
it seems to me that I should say to myself if 
I were in your place? ” 

“ Yes, please! ” replied Katy wonderingly. 

“ I should say this: ‘ Now, Katy Carr, you 
wanted to go to school and learn to be wise and 
useful, and here’s a chance for you. God is 
going to let you go to His school — where He 
teaches all sorts of beautiful things to people. 
Perhaps He will only keep you for one term, 
or perhaps it may be for three or four; but 
whichever it is, you must make the very most 
of the chance, because He gives it to you Him¬ 
self/ ” 

“ But what is the school? ” asked Katy. “ I 
don’t know what you mean.” 

“ It is called The School of Pain,” replied 
Cousin Helen, with her sweetest smile. “ And 
the place where the lessons are to be learned 
is this room of yours. The rules of the school 
are pretty hard, but the good scholars, who 
keep them best, find out after a while how 
right and kind they are. And the lessons 


Dismal Days 173 

aren’t easy, either, but the more you study the 
more interesting they become.” 

“ What are the lessons? ” asked Katy, get¬ 
ting interested, and beginning to feel as if 
Cousin Helen were telling her a story. 

“ Well, there’s the lesson of Patience. 
That’s one of the hardest studies. You can’t 
learn much of it at a time, but every bit you 
get by heart, makes the next bit easier. And 
there’s the lesson of Cheerfulness. And the 
lesson of Making the Best of Things.” 

“ Sometimes there isn’t anything to make 
the best of,” remarked Katy, dolefully. 

“Yes there is, always! Everything in the 
world has two handles. Didn’t you know 
that? One is a smooth handle. If you take 
hold of it, the thing comes up lightly and 
easily, but if you seize the rough handle, it 
hurts your hand and the thing is hard to lift. 
Some people always manage to get hold of the 
wrong handle.” 

“Is Aunt Izzie a ‘thing?’” asked Katy. 
Cousin Helen was glad to hear her laugh. 

“Yes — Aunt Izzie is a thing — and she 
has a nice pleasant handle too, if you just try 


174 What Katy Did 

to find it. And the children are ‘things/ also, 
in one sense. All their handles are different. 
You know human beings aren’t made just 
alike, like red flower-pots. We have to feel 
and guess before we can make out just how 
other people go, and how we ought to take 
hold of them. It is very interesting, I advise 
you to try it. And while you are trying, you 
will learn all sorts of things which will help 
you to help others.” 

“If I only could!” sighed Katy. “Are 
there any other studies in the School, Cousin 
Helen? ” 

“Yes, there’s the lesson of Hopefulness. 
That class has ever so many teachers. The 
Sun is one. He sits outside the window all 
day waiting a chance to slip in and get at his 
pupil. He’s a first-rate teacher, too. I 
wouldn’t shut him out, if I were you. 

“ Every morning, the first thing when I 
woke up, I would say to myself: c I am going 
to get well, so Papa thinks. Perhaps it may 
be to-morrow. So, in case this should be the 
last day of my sickness, let me spend it beauti - 


Dismal Days 175 

fully , and make my sick-room so pleasant that 
everybody will like to remember it.’ 

“ Then, there is one more lesson, Katy — 
the lesson of Neatness. School-rooms must 
be kept in order, you know. A sick person 
ought to be as fresh and dainty as a rose.” 

“ But it is such a fuss,” pleaded Katy. “ I 
don’t believe you’ve any idea what a bother 
it is to always be nice and in order. You never 
were careless like me, Cousin Helen; you were 
born neat.” 

“Oh, was I?” said her Cousin. “Well, 
Katy, we won’t dispute that point, but I’ll tell 
you a story, if you like, about a girl I once 
knew, who wasn’t born neat.” 

“ Oh, do! ” cried Katy, enchanted. Cousin 
Helen had done her good, already. She 
looked brighter and less listless than for days. 

“ This girl was quite young,” continued 
Cousin Helen; “she was strong and active, 
and liked to run, and climb, and ride, and do 
all sorts of jolly things. One day something 
happened — an accident — and they told her 
that all the rest of her life she had got to lie 
on her back and suffer pain, and never walk 


176 What Katy Did 

any more, or do any of the things she enjoyed 
most.” 

“ Just like you and me! ” whispered Katy, 
squeezing Cousin Helen's hand. 

“ Something like me; but not so much like 
you, because, you know, we hope you are going 
to get well one of these days. The girl didn’t 
mind it so much when they first told her, for 
she was so ill that she felt sure she should die. 
But when she got better, and began to think of 
the long life which lay before her, that was 
worse than ever the pain had been. She was 
so wretched, that she didn’t care what became 
of anything, or how anything looked. She had 
no Aunt Izzie to look after things, so her room 
soon got into a dreadful state. It was full of 
dust and confusion, and dirty spoons and 
phials of physic. She kept the blinds shut, and 
let her hair tangle every which way, and alto¬ 
gether was a dismal spectacle. 

“ This girl had a dear old father,” went on 
Cousin Helen, “ who used to come every day 
and sit beside her bed. One morning he said 
to her: 

My daughter, I’m afraid you’ve got to 


Dismal Days 177 

live in this room for a long time. Now there’s 
one thing I want you to do for my sake.’ 

“‘What’s that?’ she asked, surprised to 
hear there was anything left which she could 
do for anybody. 

“ ‘ I want you to turn out all these physic 
bottles, and make your room pleasant and 
pretty for me to come and sit in. You see, I 
shall spend a good deal of my time here! Now 
I don’t like dust and darkness. I like to see 
flowers on the table, and sunshine in at the 
window. Will you do this to please me? ’ 

“ ‘ Yes,’ said the girl, but she gave a sigh, 
and I am afraid she felt as if it was going to 
be a dreadful trouble. 

“ ‘ Then, another thing,’ continued her fa¬ 
ther, * I want you to look pretty. Can’t night¬ 
gowns and wrappers be trimmed and made be¬ 
coming just as much as dresses? A sick 
woman who isn’t neat is a disagreeable object. 
Do, to please me, send for something pretty, 
and let me see you looking nice again. I can’t 
bear to have my Helen turn into a slattern.’ ” 
“ Helen! ” exclaimed Katy, with wide-open 
eyes, “ was it you? ” 


178 What Katy Did 

“ Yes/’ said her cousin, smiling. “ It was I, 
though I didn’t mean to let the name slip out 
so soon. So, after my father was gone away, 
I sent for a looking-glass. Such a sight, Katy! 
My hair was a perfect mouse’s nest, and I had 
frowned so much that my forehead was all 
criss-crossed with lines of pain, till it looked 
like an old woman’s.” 

Katy stared at Cousin Helen’s smooth brow 
and glossy hair. “ I can’t believe it,” she 
said; “ your hair never could be rough.” 

“Yes it was — worse, a great deal, than 
yours looks now. But that peep in the glass 
did me good. I began to think how selfishly 
I was behaving, and to desire to do better. 
And after that, when the pain came on, I used 
to lie and keep my forehead smooth with my 
fingers, and try not to let my face show what 
I was enduring. So by and by the wrinkles 
wore away, and though I am a good deal older 
now, they have never come back. 

“ It was a great deal of trouble at first to 
have to think and plan to keep my room and 
myself looking nice. But after a while it grew 
to be a habit, and then it became easy. And 


Dismal Days 179 

the pleasure it gave my dear father repaid for 
all. He had been proud of his active, healthy 
girl, but I think she was never such a comfort 
to him as his sick one, lying there in her bed. 
My room was his favorite sitting-place, and 
he spent so much time there, that now the 
room, and everything in it, makes me think of 
him.” 

There were tears in Cousin Helen’s eyes as 
she ceased speaking. But Katy looked bright 
and eager. It seemed somehow to be a help, 
as well as a great surprise, that ever there 
should have been a time when Cousin Helen 
was less perfect than she was now. 

“ Do you really think I could do so too? ” 
she asked. 

“ Do what? Comb your hair? ” Cousin 
Helen was smiling now. 

“ Oh no! Be nice and sweet and patient, 
and a comfort to people. You know what I 
mean.” 

“ I am sure you can, if you try.” 

“ But what would you do first? ” asked 
Katy; who, now that her mind had grasped 
a new idea, was eager to begin. 


i8o 


What Katy Did 

“ Well — first I would open the blinds, and 
make the room look a little less dismal. Are 
you taking all those medicines in the bottles 
now? ” 

“ No — only that big one with the blue 
label/’ 

“ Then you might ask Aunt Izzy to take 
away the others. And I’d get Clover to pick 
a bunch of fresh flowers every day for your 
table. By the way, I don’t see the little white 
vase.” 

“ No — it got broken the very day after you 
went away; the day I fell out of the swing,” 
said Katy, sorrowfully. 

“ Never mind, pet, don’t look so doleful. I 
know the tree those vases grow upon, and you 
shall have another. Then, after the room is 
made pleasant, I would have all my lesson- 
books fetched up, if I were you, and I would 
study a couple of hours every morning.” 

“ Oh! ” cried Katy, making a wry face at 
the idea. 

Cousin Helen smiled. “ I know,” said she, 
“ it sounds like dull work, learning geography 
and doing sums up here all by yourself. But 


Dismal Days 181 

I think if you make the effort you’ll be glad by 
and by. You won’t lose so much ground, you 
see — won’t slip back quite so far in your edu¬ 
cation. And then, studying will be like work¬ 
ing at a garden, where things don’t grow 
easily. Every flower you raise will be a sort of 
triumph, and you will value it twice as much 
as a common flower which has cost no trouble.” 

“ Well,” said Katy, rather forlornly, “ I’ll 
try. But it won’t be a bit nice studying with¬ 
out anybody to study with me. Is there any¬ 
thing else, Cousin Helen 1 ? ” 

Just then the door creaked, and Elsie 
timidly put her head into the room. 

“Oh, Elsie, run away!” cried Katy. 
“ Cousin Helen and I are talking. Don’t 
come just now.” 

Katy didn’t speak unkindly, but Elsie’s face 
fell, and she looked disappointed. She said 
nothing, however, but shut the door and stole 
away. 

Cousin Helen watched this little scene with¬ 
out speaking. For a few minutes after Elsie 
was gone she seemed to be thinking. 

“ Katy,” she said at last, “ you were saying 


182 What Katy Did 

just now, that one of the things you were sorry 
about was that while you were ill you could be 
of no use to the children. Do you know, I 
don’t think you have that reason for being 
sorry.” 

“ Why not? ” said Katy, astonished. 

“ Because you can be of use. It seems to 
me that you have more of a chance with the 
children now, than you ever could have had 
when you were well, and flying about as you 
used. You might do almost anything you 
liked with them.” 

“ I can’t think what you mean,” said Katy, 
sadly. “ Why, Cousin Helen, half the time I 
don’t even know where they are, or what they 
are doing. And I can’t get up and go after 
them, you know.” 

“ But you can make your room such a de¬ 
lightful place, that they will want to come to 
you! Don’t you see, a sick person has one 
splendid chance — she is always on hand. 
Everybody who wants her knows just where to 
go. If people love her, she gets naturally to be 
the heart of the house. 

“ Once make the little ones feel that your 


Dismal Days 183 

room is the place of all others to come to when 
they are tired, or happy, or grieved, or sorry 
about anything, and that the Katy who lives 
there is sure to give them a loving reception — 
and the battle is won. For you know we never 
do people good by lecturing; only by living 
their lives with them, and helping a little here, 
and a little there, to make them better. And 
when one’s own life is laid aside for a while, 
as yours is now, that is the very time to take 
up other people’s lives, as we can’t do when 
we are scurrying and bustling over our own 
affairs. But I didn’t mean to preach a ser¬ 
mon. I’m afraid you’re tired.” 

“ No, I’m not a bit,” said Katy, holding 
Cousin Helen’s hand tight in hers; “ you can’t 
think how much better I feel. Oh, Cousin 
Helen, I will try! ” 

“ It won’t be easy,” replied her cousin. 
“ There will be days when your head aches, 
and you feel cross and fretted, and don’t want 
to think of any one but yourself. And there’ll 
be other days when Clover and the rest will 
come in, as Elsie did just now, and you will be 
doing something else, and will feel as if their 


184 What Katy Did 

coming was a bother. But you must recollect 
that every time you forget, and are impatient 
or selfish, you chill them and drive them far¬ 
ther away. They are loving little things, and 
are so sorry for you now, that nothing you do 
makes them angry. But by and by they will 
get used to having you sick, and if you haven’t 
won them as friends, they will grow away from 
you as they get older.” 

Just then Dr. Carr came in. 

“ Oh, Papa! you haven’t come to take 
Cousin Helen, have you? ” cried Katy. 

“ Indeed I have,” said her father. “ I think 
the big invalid and the little invalid have 
talked quite long enough. Cousin Helen looks 
tired.” 

For a minute, Katy felt just like crying. 
But she choked back the tears. “ My first les¬ 
son in Patience,” she said to herself, and man¬ 
aged to give a faint, watery smile as Papa 
looked at her. 

“ That’s right, dear,” whispered Cousin 
Helen, as she bent forward to kiss her. “ And 
one last word, Katy. In this school, to which 
you and I belong, there is one great comfort, 


Dismal Days 185 

and that is that the Teacher is always at hand. 
He never goes away. If things puzzle us, 
there He is, close by, ready to explain and 
make all easy. Try to think of this, darling, 
and don’t be afraid to ask Him for help if the 
lesson seems too hard.” 

Katy had a strange dream that night. She 
thought she was trying to study a lesson out 
of a book which wouldn’t come quite open. 
She could just see a little bit of what was in¬ 
side, but it was in a language which she did 
not understand. She tried in vain; not a word 
could she read ; and yet, for all that, it looked 
so interesting that she longed to go on. 

“ Oh, if somebody would only help me! ” 
she cried impatiently. 

Suddenly a hand came over her shoulder 
and took hold of the book. It opened at once, 
and showed the whole page. And then the 
forefinger of the hand began to point to line 
after line, and as it moved the words became 
plain, and Katy could read them easily. She 
looked up. There, stooping over her, was a 
great beautiful Face. The eyes met hers. 
The lips smiled. 


i86 


What Katy Did 

“ Why didn’t you ask me before, Little 
Scholar'? ” said a voice. 

“ Why, it is You , just as Cousin Helen told 
me! ” cried Katy. 

She must have spoken in her sleep, for Aunt 
Izzie half woke up, and said: 

“ What is it 1 ? Do you want anything? ” 

The dream broke, and Katy roused, to find 
herself in bed, with the first sunbeams strug¬ 
gling in at the window, and Aunt Izzie raised 
on her elbow, looking at her with a sort of 
sleepy wonder. 


CHAPTER X 


ST. NICHOLAS AND ST. VALENTINE. 

“ What are the children all doing to-day"? ” 
said Katy laying down “Norway and the 
Norwegians,” which she was reading for the 
fourth time; “I haven’t seen them since 
breakfast.” 

Aunt Izzie, who was sewing on the other 
side of the room, looked up from her work. 

“ I don’t know,” she said, “ they’re over at 
Cecy’s, or somewhere. They’ll be back before 
long, I guess.” 

Her voice sounded a little odd and mysteri¬ 
ous, but Katy didn’t notice it. 

“ I thought of such a nice plan yesterday,” 
she went on. “ That was that all of them 
should hang their stockings up here to-morrow 
night instead of in the nursery. Then I could 
see them open their presents, you know. 
Mayn’t they, Aunt Izzie"? It would be real 
fun.” 


i88 


What Katy Did 

“ I don’t believe there will be any objec¬ 
tion,” replied her aunt. She looked as if she 
were trying not to laugh. Katy wondered 
what was the matter with her. 

It was more than two months now since 
Cousin Helen went away, and Winter had 
fairly come. Snow was falling out-doors. 
Katy could see the thick flakes go whirling 
past the window, but the sight did not chill 
her. It only made the room look warmer and 
more cosy. It was a pleasant room now. 
There was a bright fire in the grate. Every¬ 
thing was neat and orderly, the air was sweet 
with mignonette, from a little glass of flowers 
which stood on the table, and the Katy who lay 
in bed, was a very different-looking Katy from 
the forlorn girl of the last chapter. 

Cousin Helen’s visit, though it lasted only 
one day, did great good. Not that Katy grew 
perfect all at once. None of us do that, even 
in books. But it is everything to be started in 
the right path. Katy’s feet were on it now; 
and though she often stumbled and slipped, 
and often sat down discouraged, she kept on 
pretty steadily, in spite of bad days, which 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 189 

made her say to herself that she was not get¬ 
ting forward at all. 

These bad days, when everything seemed 
hard, and she herself was cross and fretful, 
and drove the children out of her room, cost 
Katy many bitter tears. But after them she 
would pick herself up, and try again, and 
harder. And I think that in spite of draw¬ 
backs, the little scholar, on the whole, was 
learning her lesson pretty well. 

Cousin Helen was a great comfort all this 
time. She never forgot Katy. Nearly every 
week some little thing came from her. Some¬ 
times it was a pencil note, written from her 
sofa. Sometimes it was an interesting book, or 
a new magazine, or some pretty little thing for 
the room. The crimson wrapper which Katy 
wore was one of her presents, so were the 
bright chromos of Autumn leaves which hung 
on the wall, the little stand for the books — 
all sorts of things. Katy loved to look about 
her as she lay. All the room seemed full of 
Cousin Helen and her kindness. 

“ I wish I had something pretty to put into 
everybody’s stocking,” she went on, wistfully; 


190 


What Katy Did 

“ but I’ve only got the muffetees for Papa, and 
these reins for Phil. 5 ’ She took them from un¬ 
der her pillow as she spoke — gay worsted 
affairs, with bells sewed on here and there. 
She had knit them herself, a very little bit at a 
time. 

“ There’s my pink sash,” she said suddenly, 
“ I might give that to Clover. I only wore it 
once, you know, and I don’t think I got any 
spots on it. Would you please fetch it and let 
me see, Aunt Izzie? It’s in the top drawer.” 

Aunt Izzie brought the sash. It proved to 
be quite fresh, and they both decided that it 
would do nicely for Clover. 

“ You know I sha’n’t want sashes for ever 
so long,” said Katy, in rather a sad tone. 
“ And this is a beauty.” 

When she spoke next, her voice was 
bright again. 

“ I wish I had something real nice for Elsie. 
Do you know, Aunt Izzie — I think Elsie is 
the dearest little girl that ever was.” 

“ I’m glad you’ve found it out,” said Aunt 
Izzie, who had always been specially fond of 
Elsie. 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 191 

“ What she wants most of all is a writing- 
desk,” continued Katy. “ And Johnnie wants 
a sled. But, oh dear! these are such big things. 
And I’ve only got two dollars and a quarter.” 

Aunt Izzie marched out of the room without 
saying anything. When she came back she 
had something folded up in her hand. 

“ I didn’t know what to give you for Christ¬ 
mas, Katy,” she said, “ because Helen sends 
you such a lot of things that there don’t seem 
to be anything you haven’t already. So I 
thought I’d give you this, and let you choose 
for yourself. But if you’ve set your heart on 
getting presents for the children, perhaps 
you’d rather have it now.” So saying, Aunt 
Izzie laid on the bed a crisp, new five-dollar 
bill! 

“ How good you are! ” cried Katy, flushed 
with pleasure. And indeed Aunt Izzie did 
seem to have grown wonderfully good of late. 
Perhaps Katy had got hold of her smooth 
handle! 

Being now in possession of seven dollars 
and a quarter, Katy could afford to be gor- 


192 


What Katy Did 

geously generous. She gave Aunt Izzie an 
exact description of the desk she wanted. 

“ It’s no matter about its being very big,” 
said Katy, “ but it must have a blue velvet 
lining, and an inkstand, with a silver top. 
And please buy some little sheets of paper and 
envelopes, and a pen-handle; the prettiest you 
can find. Oh! and there must be a lock and 
key. Don’t forget that, Aunt Izzie.” 

“ No, I won’t. What else? ” 

“ I’d like the sled to be green,” went on 
Katy, “ and to have a nice name. Sky-Scraper 
would be nice, if there was one. Johnnie saw 
a sled once called Sky-Scraper, and she said it 
was splendid. And if there’s money enough 
left, Aunty, won’t you buy me a real nice book 
for Dorry, and another for Cecy, and a silver 
thimble for Mary? Her old one is full of 
holes. Oh! and some candy. And something 
for Debby and Bridget — some little thing, 
you know. I think that’s all! ” 

Was ever seven dollars and a quarter ex¬ 
pected to do so much? Aunt Izzie must have 
been a witch, indeed, to make it hold out. But 
she did, and next day all the precious bundles 


St. Nicholas and St.-Valentine 193 

came home. How Katy enjoyed untying the 
strings! 

Everything was exactly right. 

“ There wasn’t any Sky-Scraper,” said Aunt 
Izzie, “ so I got ‘ Snow-Skimmer ’ instead.” 

“ It’s beautiful, and I like it just as well,” 
said Katy contentedly. 

“ Oh, hide them, hide them! ” she cried with 
sudden terror, “ somebody’s coming.” But the 
somebody was only Papa, who put his head 
into the room as Aunt Izzie, laden with bun¬ 
dles, scuttled across the hall. 

Katy was glad to catch him alone. She had 
a little private secret to talk over with him. It 
was about Aunt Izzie, for whom she, as yet, 
had no present. 

“ I thought perhaps you’d get me a book like 
that one of Cousin Helen’s, which Aunt Izzie 
liked so much,” she said. “ I don’t recollect 
the name exactly. It was something about a 
Shadow. But I’ve spent all my money.” 

“ Never mind about that,” said Dr. Carr. 
“ We’ll make that right. ‘ The Shadow of the 
Cross ’ — was that it? I’ll buy it this after- 

55 


noon. 


194 


What Katy Did 

“ Oh, thank you, Papa! And please get a 
brown cover, if you can, because Cousin 
Helen’s was brown. And you won’t let Aunt 
Izzie know, will you? Be careful, Papa! ” 

“ I’ll swallow the book first, brown cover 
and all,” said Papa, making a funny face. He 
was pleased to see Katy so interested about 
anything again. 

These delightful secrets took up so much of 
her thoughts, that Katy scarcely found time to 
wonder at the absence of the children, who 
generally haunted her room, but who for three 
days back had hardly been seen. However, 
after supper they all came up in a body, look¬ 
ing very merry, and as if they had been having 
a good time somewhere. 

“ You don’t know what we’ve been doing,” 
began Philly. 

“ Hush, Phil! ” said Clover, in a warning 
voice. Then she divided the stockings which 
she held in her hand. And everybody pro¬ 
ceeded to hang them up. 

Dorry hung his on one side of the fireplace, 
and John hers exactly opposite. Clover and 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 195 

Phil suspended theirs side by side, on two 
handles of the bureau. 

“ Pm going to put mine here, close to Katy, 
so that she can see it the first fing in the morn- 
in,” said Elsie, pinning hers to the bed-post. 

Then they all sat down round the fire to 
write their wishes on bits of paper, and see 
whether they would burn, or fly up the chim¬ 
ney. If they did the latter, it was a sign that 
Santa Claus had them safe, and would bring 
the things wished for. 

John wished for a sled and a doll’s tea-set, 
and the continuation of the Swiss Family Rob¬ 
inson. Dorry’s list ran thus: 

“ A plum-cake, 

A new Bibel, 

Harry and Lucy, 

A Kellidescope, 

Everything else Santa Claus likes.” 

When they had written these lists they 
threw them into the fire. The fire gave a 
flicker just then, and the papers vanished. 
Nobody saw exactly how. John thought they 
flew up chimney, but Dorry said they didn’t. 


196 What Katy Did 

Phil dropped his piece in very solemnly. It 
flamed for a minute, then sank into ashes. 

“ There, you won’t get it, whatever it 
was!” said Dorry. “What did you write, 
Phil?” 

“Nofing,” said Phil, “only just Philly 
Carr.” 

The children shouted. 

“ I wrote c a writing-desk 5 on mine,” re¬ 
marked Elsie, sorrowfully, “ but it all burned 
up.” 

Katy chuckled when she heard this. 

And now Clover produced her list. She 
read aloud : 

Strive and Thrive, 5 
A pair of kid gloves, 

A muff, 

A good temper! 55 

Then she dropped it into the fire. Behold, it 
flew straight up chimney. 

“How queer!” said Katy; “none of the 
rest of them did that.” 

The truth was, that Clover, who was a 
canny little mortal, had slipped across the 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 197 

room and opened the door just before putting 
her wishes in. This, of course, made a draft, 
and sent the paper right upward. 

Pretty soon Aunt Izzie came in and swept 
them all off to bed. 

“ I know how it will be in the morning,” she 
said, “ you’ll all be up and racing about as 
soon as it is light. So you must get your sleep 
now, if ever.” 

After they had gone, Katy recollected that 
nobody had offered to hang a stocking up for 
her. She felt a little hurt when she thought 
of it. “ But I suppose they forgot,” she said 
to herself. 

A little later Papa and Aunt Izzie came in, 
and they filled the stockings. It was great 
fun. Each was brought to Katy, as she lay in 
bed, that she might arrange it as she liked. 

The toes were stuffed with candy and 
oranges. Then came the parcels, all shapes 
and sizes, tied in white paper, with ribbons, 
and labelled. 

“What’s that?” asked Dr. Carr, as Aunt 
Izzie rammed a long, narrow package into 
Clover’s stocking. 


198 What Katy Did 

“A nail-brush/ 5 answered Aunt Izzie; 
“ Clover needed a new one/ 5 

How Papa and Katy laughed! “ I don’t 
believe Santa Claus ever had such a thing be¬ 
fore/ 5 said Dr. Carr. 

“ He’s a very dirty old gentleman, then,” 
observed Aunt Izzie, grimly. 

The desk and sled were too big to go into 
any stocking, so they were wrapped in paper 
and hung beneath the other things. It was ten 
o’clock before all was done, and Papa and 
Aunt Izzie went away. Katy lay a long time 
watching the queer shapes of the stocking-legs 
as they dangled in the firelight. Then she fell 
asleep. 

It seemed only a minute, before something 
touched her and woke her up. Behold, it was 
day-time, and there was Philly in his night¬ 
gown, climbing up on the bed to kiss her! The 
rest of the children, half dressed, were dancing 
about with their stockings in their hands. 

“ Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! ” 
they cried. “ Oh, Katy, such beautiful, beau - 
tiful things! ” 

“ Oh! ” shrieked Elsie, who at that moment 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 199 

spied her desk, “ Santa Claus did bring it, 
after all! Why, it’s got ‘from Katy ’ written 
on it! Oh, Katy, it’s so sweet, and I’m so 
happy! ” and Elsie hugged Katy, and sobbed 
for pleasure. 

But what was that strange thing beside the 
bed! Katy stared, and rubbed her eyes. It 
certainly had not been there when she went to 
sleep. How had it come*? 

It was a little evergreen tree planted in a 
red flower-pot. The pot had stripes of gilt 
paper stuck on it, and gilt stars and crosses, 
which made it look very gay. The boughs of 
the tree were hung with oranges, and nuts, and 
shiny red apples, and pop-corn balls, and 
strings of bright berries. There were also a 
number of little packages tied with blue and 
crimson ribbon, and altogether the tree looked 
so pretty, that Katy gave a cry of delighted 
surprise. 

“ It’s a Christmas-tree for you, because 
you’re sick, you know! ” said the children, all 
trying to hug her at once. 

“ We made it ourselves,” said Dorry, hop- 


200 


What Katy Did 

ping about on one foot; “I pasted the black 
stars on the pot.” 

“ And I popped the corn! ” cried Philly. 

“ Do you like it?” asked Elsie, cuddling 
close to Katy. “ That’s my present — that 
one tied with a green ribbon. I wish it was 
nicer! Don’t you want to open ’em right 
away? ” 

Of course Katy wanted to. All sorts of 
things came out of the little bundles. The 
children had arranged every parcel themselves. 
No grown person had been allowed to help in 
the least. 

Elsie’s present was a pen-wiper, with a gray 
flannel kitten on it. Johnnie’s, a doll’s tea- 
tray of scarlet tin. 

“ Isn’t it beau-ti-ful? ” she said, admiringly. 

Dorry’s gift, I regret to say, was a huge red- 
and-yellow spider, which whirred wildly when 
waved at the end of its string. 

“ They didn’t want me to buy it,” said he, 
“ but I did! I thought it would amoose you. 
Does it amoose you, Katy? ” 

“ Yes, indeed,” said Katy, laughing and 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 201 

blinking as Dorry waved the spider to and fro 
before her eyes. 

“ You can play with it when we ain’t here 
and you’re all alone, you know,” remarked 
Dorry, highly gratified. 

“ But you don’t notice what the tree’s stand¬ 
ing upon,” said Clover. 

It was a chair, a very large and curious one, 
with a long-cushioned back, which ended in a 
footstool. 

“ That’s Papa’s present,” said Clover; “ see, 
it tips back so as to be just like a bed. And 
Papa says he thinks pretty soon you can lie on 
it, in the window, where you can see us play.” 

“ Does he really? ” said Katy, doubtfully. 
It still hurt her very much to be touched or 
moved. 

“ And see what’s tied to the arm of the 
chair,” said Elsie. 

It was a little silver bell, with “ Katy ” en¬ 
graved on the handle. 

“ Cousin Helen sent it. It’s for you to ring 
when you want anybody to come,” explained 
Elsie. 

More surprises. To the other arm of the 


202 What Katy Did 

chair was fastened a beautiful book. It was 
“ The Wide Wide World ” — and there was 
Katy’s name written on it, ‘ from her affection¬ 
ate Cecy.’ On it stood a great parcel of dried 
cherries from Mrs. Hall. Mrs. Hall had the 
most delicious dried cherries, the children 
thought. 

“ How perfectly lovely everybody is! ” said 
Katy, with grateful tears in her eyes. 

That was a pleasant Christmas. The chil¬ 
dren declared it to be the nicest they had ever 
had. And though Katy couldn’t quite say 
that, she enjoyed it too, and was very happy. 

It was several weeks before she was able to 
use the chair, but when once she became accus¬ 
tomed to it, it proved very comfortable. Aunt 
Izzie would dress her in the morning, tip the 
chair back till it was on a level with the bed, 
and then, very gently and gradually, draw her 
over on to it. Wheeling across the room was 
always painful, but sitting in the window and 
looking out at the clouds, the people going by, 
and the children playing in the snow, was de¬ 
lightful. How delightful nobody knows, ex¬ 
cepting those who, like Katy, have lain for six 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 203 

months in bed, without a peep at the outside 
world. Every day she grew brighter and more 
cheerful. 

“ How jolly Santa Claus was this year! ” 
she happened to say one day, when she was 
talking with Cecy. “ I wish another Saint 
would come and pay us a visit. But I don’t 
know any more, except Cousin Helen, and she 
can’t.” 

“ There’s St. Valentine,” suggested Cecy. 

“Sure enough. What a bright thought! ” 
cried Katy, clapping her hands. “ Oh, Cecy, 
let’s do something funny on Valentine’s-Day! 
Such a good idea has just popped into my 
mind.” 

So the two girls put their heads together and 
held a long, mysterious confabulation. What 
it was about, we shall see farther on. 

Valentine’s-Day was the next Friday. 
When the children came home from school on 
Thursday afternoon, Aunt Izzie met them, 
and, to their great surprise, told them that 
Cecy was come to drink tea, and they must all 
go up stairs and be made nice. 

“ But Cecy comes most every day,” re- 


204 


What Katy Did 

marked Dorry, who didn’t see the connection 
between this fact and having his face washed. 

“ Yes — but to-night you are to take tea in 
Katy’s room,” said Aunt Izzie; “ here are the 
invitations: one for each of you.” 

Sure enough, there was a neat little note for 
each, requesting the pleasure of their company 
at “ Queen Katharine’s Palace,” that after¬ 
noon, at six o’clock. 

This put quite a different aspect on the af¬ 
fair. The children scampered up stairs, and 
pretty soon, all nicely brushed and washed, 
they were knocking formally at the door of the 
“ Palace.” How fine it sounded! 

The room looked bright and inviting. Katy, 
in her chair, sat close to the fire, Cecy was be¬ 
side her, and there was a round table all set out 
with a white cloth and mugs of milk and bis¬ 
cuit, and strawberry-Jam and doughnuts. In 
the middle was a loaf of frosted cake. There 
was something on the icing which looked like 
pink letters, and Clover, leaning forward, read 
aloud, “ St. Valentine.” 

“ What’s that for?” asked Dorry. 

“ Why, you know this is St. Valentine’s- 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 205 

Eve,” replied Katy. “ Debbie remembered it, 
I guess, so she put that on.” 

Nothing more was said about St. Valentine 
just then. But when the last pink letter of his 
name had been eaten, and the supper had been 
cleared away, suddenly, as the children sat by 
the fire, there was a loud rap at the door. 

“Who can that be?” said Katy; “please 
see, Clover! ” 

So Clover opened the door. There stood 
Bridget, trying very hard not to laugh, and 
holding a letter in her hand. 

“ It’s a note as has come for you, Miss 
Clover,” she said. 

“ For me! ” cried Clover, much amazed. 
Then she shut the door, and brought the note 
to the table. 

“ How very funny! ” she exclaimed, as she 
looked at the envelope, which was a green and 
white one. There was something hard inside. 
Clover broke the seal. Out tumbled a small 
green velvet pincushion made in the shape of a 
clover-leaf, with a tiny stem of wire wound 
with green silk. Pinned to the cushion was a 
paper, with these verses: 


206 


What Katy Did 

“ Some people love roses well, 

Tulips, gayly dressed, 

Some love violets blue and sweet, — 
I love Clover best. 

“ Though she has a modest air, 
Though no grace she boast, 
Though no gardener call her fair, 

I love Clover most. 

“ Butterfly may pass her by, 

He is but a rover, 

I’m a faithful, loving Bee — 

And I stick to Clover.” 


This was the first valentine Clover had ever 
had. She was perfectly enchanted. 

“ Oh, who do you suppose sent it? ” she 
cried. 

But before anybody could answer, there 
came another loud knock at the door, which 
made them all jump. Behold, Bridget again, 
with a second letter! 

“ It’s for you, Miss Elsie, this time/ 5 she 
said with a grin. 

There was an instant rush from all the chil¬ 
dren, and the envelope was torn open in the 
twinkling of an eye. Inside was a little ivory 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 207 

* 

seal with “ Elsie 55 on it in old English letters, 
and these rhymes: 

“ I know a little girl, 

She is very dear to me, 

She is just as sweet as honey 
When she chooses so to be, 

And her name begins with E, and ends with E. 

“ She has brown hair which curls, 

And black eyes for to see 
With, teeth like tiny pearls, 

And dimples, one, two — three, 

And her name begins with E, and ends with E. 

“ Her little feet run faster 
Than other feet can flee, 

As she brushes quickly past, her 
Voice hums like a bee, 

And her name begins with E, and ends with E. 

“ Do you ask me why I love her 4 ? 

Then I shall answer thee, 

Because I can’t help loving, 

She is so sweet to me, 

This little girl whose name begins and ends with ‘ E.’ ” 

“ It’s just like a fairy story,” said Elsie, 
whose eyes had grown as big as saucers from 
surprise, while these verses were being read 
aloud by Cecy. 

Another knock. This time there was a per- 


208 


What Katy Did 

feet handful of letters. Everybody had one. 
Katy, to her great surprise, had two. 

“ Why, what can this be? 55 she said. But 
when she peeped into the second one, she saw 
Cousin Helen’s handwriting, and she put it 
into her pocket, till the valentines should be 
read. 

Dorry’s was opened first. It had the picture 
of a pie at the top — I ought to explain that 
Dorry had lately been having a siege with the 
dentist. 

“ Little Jack Horner 
Sat in his corner, 

Eating his Christmas pie, 

When a sudden grimace 
Spread over his face, 

And he began loudly to cry. 

“ His tender Mamma 
Heard the sound from afar, 

And hastened to comfort her child; 

* What aileth my John? ’ 

She inquired in a tone 

Which belied her question mild. 

“ ‘ Oh, Mother/ he said, 

‘ Every tooth in my head 

Jumps and aches and is loose, O my! 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 209 

And it hurts me to eat 
Anything that is sweet — 

So what will become of my pie^ 9 

“ It were vain to describe 
How he roared and he cried, 

And howled like a miniature tempest; 

Suffice it to say, 

That the very next day 

He had all his teeth pulled by a dentist! ” 

This valentine made the children laugh for 
a long time. 

Johnnie’s envelope held a paper doll named 
“ Red Riding-Hood.” These were the verses: 

“ I send you my picture, dear Johnnie, to show 
That I’m just as alive as you, 

And that you needn’t cry over my fate 
Any more, as you used to do. 

“ The wolf didn’t hurt me at all that day, 

For I kicked and fought and cried, 

Till he dropped me out of his mouth, and ran 
Away in the woods to hide. 

“ And Grandma and I have lived ever since 
In the little brown house so small, 

And churned fresh butter and made cream cheeses, 
Nor seen the wolf at all. 

“ So cry no more for fear I am eaten, 

The naughty wolf is shot, 


210 


What Katy Did 

And if you will come to tea some evening 

You shall see for yourself I’m not.” 

Johnnie was immensely pleased at this, for 
Red Riding-Hood was a great favorite of hers. 

Philly had a bit of india-rubber in his letter, 
which was written with very black ink on a 
big sheet of foolscap: 

“ I was once a naughty man, 

And I hid beneath the bed, 

To steal your india-rubbers, 

But I chewed them up instead. 

“ Then you called out, ‘ Who is there? ’ 

I was thrown most in a fit, 

And I let the india-rubbers fall — 

All but this little bit. 

“ I’m sorry for my naughty ways, 

And now, to make amends, 

I send the chewed piece back again, 

And beg we may be friends. 

“ Robber.” 

“ Just listen to mine,” said Cecy, who had 
all along pretended to be as much surprised as 
anybody, and now behaved as if she could 
hardly wait till Philly’s was finished. Then 
she read aloud: 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 211 


“ TO CECY. 

“ If I were a bird 
And you were a bird, 

What would we do*? 

Why you should be little and I would be big, 
And, side by side on a cherry-tree twig, 

We’d kiss with our yellow bills, and coo — 
That’s what we’d do! 

“ If I were a fish 
And you were a fish, 

What would we do? 

We’d frolic, and whisk our little tails, 

And play all sorts of tricks with the whales, 

And call on the oysters, and order a ‘ stew,’ 
That’s what we’d do! 

“ If I were a bee 
And you were a bee, 

What would we do? 

We’d find a home in a breezy wood, 

And store it with honey sweet and good. 

You should feed me and I would feed you, 

That’s what we’d do! 

“ Valentine.” 

“ I think that’s the prettiest of all,” said 
Clover. 

“ I don’t,” said Elsie. “ I think mine is the 
prettiest. Cecy didn’t have any seal in hers, 
either.” And she fondled the little seal, which 
all this time she had held in her hand. 


212 


What Katy Did 

“ Katy, you ought to have read yours first, 
because you are the oldest/’ said Clover. 

“ Mine isn’t much,” replied Katy, and she 
read: 

“ The rose is red the violet blue, 

Sugar is sweet, and so are you.” 

“What a mean valentine!” cried Elsie, 
with flashing eyes. “ It’s a real shame, Katy! 
You ought to have had the best of all.” 

Katy could hardly keep from laughing. The 
fact was that the verses for the others had 
taken so long, that no time had been left for 
writing a valentine to herself. So, thinking 
it would excite suspicion to have none, she had 
scribbled this old rhyme at the last moment. 

“ It isn’t very nice,” she said, trying to look 
as pensive as she could, “ but never mind.” 

“It’s a shame! ” repeated Elsie, petting her 
very hard to make up for the injustice. 

“Hasn’t it been a funny evening?” said 
John; and Dorry replied, “Yes; we never had 
such good times before Katy was sick, did 
we?” 

Katy heard this with a mingled feeling of 
pleasure and pain. “ I think the children do 


St. Nicholas and St. Valentine 213 

love me a little more of late,” she said to her¬ 
self. “ But, oh, why couldn ’t I be good to 
them when I was well and strong! 55 

She didn ’t open Cousin Helen’s letter until 
the rest were all gone to bed. I think some¬ 
body must have written and told about the val¬ 
entine party, for instead of a note there were 
these verses in Cousin Helen’s own clear, 
pretty hand. It wasn’t a valentine, because it 
was too solemn, as Katy explained to Clover, 
next day. “ But,” she added, “ it is a 
great deal beautifuller than any valentine that 
ever was written.” And Clover thought so too. 

These were the verses: 

“IN SCHOOL. 

“ I used to go to a bright school 

Where Youth and Frolic taught in turn; 

But idle scholar that I was, 

I liked to play, I would not learn; 

So the Great Teacher did ordain 
That I should try the School of Pain. 

“ One of the infant class I am 
With little, easy lessons, set 
In a great book; the higher class 
Have harder ones than I, and yet 
I find mine hard, and can’t restrain 
My tears while studying thus with Pain. 


214 


What Katy Did 

“ There are two Teachers in the school, 

One has a gentle voice and low, 

And smiles upon her scholars, as 
She softly passes to and fro. 

Her name is Love; ’tis very plain 
She shuns the sharper teacher, Pain. 

“ Or so I sometimes think; and then, 

At other times, they meet and kiss, 

And look so strangely like, that I 
Am puzzled to tell how it is, 

Or whence the change which makes it vain 
To guess if it be — Love or Pain. 

“ They tell me if I study well, 

And learn my lessons, I shall be 
Moved upward to that higher class 
Where dear Love teaches constantly; 
And I work hard, in hopes to gain 
Reward, and get away from Pain. 

“ Yet Pain is sometimes kind, and helps 
Me on when I am very dull; 

I thank him often in my heart; 

But Love is far more beautiful; 

Under her tender, gentle reign 
I must learn faster than of Pain. 

“ So I will do my very best, 

Nor chide the clock, nor call it slow; 
That when the Teacher calls me up 
To see if I am fit to go, 

I may to Love’s high class attain, 

And bid a sweet good-by to Pain.” 


CHAPTER XI 




A NEW LESSON TO LEARN 

It was a long time before the children ceased 
to talk and laugh over that jolly evening. 
Dorry declared he wished there could be a Val- 
entine’s-Day every week. 

“ Don ’t you think St. Valentine would be 
tired of writing verses?” asked Katy. But 
she, too, had enjoyed the frolic, and the bright 
recollection helped her along through the rest 
of the long, cold winter. 

Spring opened late that year, but the Sum¬ 
mer, when it came, was a warm one. Katy felt 
the heat very much. She could not change her 
seat and follow the breeze about from window 
to window as other people could. The long 
burning days left her weak and parched. She 
hung her head, and seemed to wilt like the 
flowers in the garden-beds. Indeed she was 
worse off than they, for every evening Alex¬ 
ander gave them a watering with the hose, 


2l6 


What Katy Did 

while nobody was able to bring a watering-pot 
and pour out what she needed — a shower of 
cold, fresh air. 

It wasn’t easy to be good-humored under 
these circumstances, and one could hardly have 
blamed Katy if she had sometimes forgotten 
her resolutions and been cross and fretful. But 
she didn J t — not very often. Now and then 
bad days came, when she was discouraged and 
forlorn. But Katy’s long year of schooling 
had taught her self-control, and, as a general 
thing, her discomforts were borne patiently. 
She could not help growing pale and thin 
however, and Papa saw with concern that, as 
the summer went on, she became too languid 
to read, or study, or sew, and just sat hour 
after hour, with folded hands, gazing wistfully 
out of the window. 

He tried the experiment of taking her to 
drive. But the motion of the carriage, and the 
being lifted in and out, brought on so much 
pain, that Katy begged that he would not ask 
her to go again. So there was nothing to be 
done but wait for cooler weather. The sum- 


A New Lesson to Learn 217 

mer dragged on, and all who loved Katy re¬ 
joiced when it was over. 

When September came, with cool mornings 
and nights, and fresh breezes, smelling of pine 
woods, and hill-tops, all things seemed to re¬ 
vive, and Katy with them. She began to cro¬ 
chet and to read. After a while she collected 
her books again, and tried to study as Cousin 
Helen had advised. But so many idle weeks 
made it seem harder work than ever. One day 
she asked Papa to let her take French lessons. 

“ You see I’m forgetting all I knew,” she 
said, “ and Clover is going to begin this term, 
and I don’t like that she should get so far 
ahead of me. Don’t you think Mr. Berger 
would be willing to come here, Papa? He 
does go to houses sometimes.” 

“ I think he would if we asked him,” said 
Dr. Carr, pleased to see Katy waking up with 
something like life again. 

So the arrangement was made. Mr. Berger 
came twice every week, and sat beside the big 
chair, correcting Katy’s exercises and practis¬ 
ing her in the verbs and pronunciation. He 


2l8 


What Katy Did 

was a lively little old Frenchman, and knew 
how to make lesson-time pleasant. 

“ You take more pain than you used, Made¬ 
moiselle, 5 ’ he said one day; “ if you go on so, 
you shall be my best scholar. And if to hurt the 
back make you study, it would be well that 
some other of my young ladies shall do the 
same.” 

Katy laughed. But in spite of Mr. Berger 
and his lessons, and in spite of her endeavors 
to keep cheerful and busy, this second winter' 
was harder than the first. It is often so with 
sick people. There is a sort of excitement in 
being ill which helps along just at the begin¬ 
ning. But as months go on, and everything 
grows an old story, and one day follows an¬ 
other day, all just alike and all tiresome, 
courage is apt to flag and spirits to grow dull. 
Spring seemed a long, long way off whenever 
Katy thought about it. 

“ I wish something would happen,” she 
often said to herself. And something was 
about to happen. But she little guessed what 
it was going to be. 

“Katy! ” said Clover, coming in one day in 


A New Lesson to Learn 219 

November, “ do you know where the camphor 
is? Aunt Izzie has got such a headache.” 

“ No,” replied Katy, “ I don’t. Or — wait 
— Clover, it seems to me that Debby came for 
it the other day. Perhaps if you look in her 
room you’ll find it.” 

“ How very queer! ” she soliloquized, when 
Clover was gone; “ I never knew Aunt Izzie 
to have a headache before.” 

“How is Aunt Izzie?” she asked, when 
Papa came in at noon. 

“ Well, I don’t know. She has some fever 
and a bad pain in her head. I have told her 
that she had better lie still, and not try to get 
up this evening. Old Mary will come in to un¬ 
dress you, Katy. You won’t mind, will you, 
dear? ” 

“N-o!” said Katy, reluctantly. But she 
did mind. Aunt Izzie had grown used to her 
and her ways. Nobody else suited her so well. 

“ It seems so strange to have to explain just 
how every little thing is to be done,” she re¬ 
marked to Clover, rather petulantly. 

It seemed stranger yet, when the next day, 
and the next, and the next after that passed, 


220 W hat Katy Did 

and still no Aunt Izzie came near her. Bless¬ 
ings brighten as they take their flight. Katy 
began to appreciate for the first time how much 
she had learned to rely on her aunt. She 
missed her dreadfully. 

“ When is Aunt Izzie going to get well?” 
she asked her father; “ I want her so much.” 

“ We all want her,” said Dr. Carr, who 
looked disturbed and anxious. 

“ Is she very sick? ” asked Katy, struck by 
the expression of his face. 

“ Pretty sick, I’m afraid,” he replied. 
“ 1’m going to get a regular nurse to take care 
of her.” 

Aunt Izzie’s attack proved to be typhoid 
fever. The doctors said that the house must be 
kept quiet, so John, and Dorry, and Phil were 
sent over to Mrs. Hall’s to stay. Elsie and 
Clover were to have gone too, but they begged 
so hard, and made so many promises of good 
behavior, that finally Papa permitted them to 
remain. The dear little things stole about the 
house on tiptoe, as quietly as mice, whispering 
to each other, and waiting on Katy, who 
would have been lonely enough without 


A New Lesson to Learn 221 

them, for everybody else was absorbed in Aunt 
Izzie. 

It was a confused, melancholy time. The 
three girls didn’t know much about sickness, 
but Papa’s grave face, and the hushed house, 
weighed upon their spirits, and they missed the 
children very much. 

“ Oh dear! ” sighed Elsie. “ How I wish 
Aunt Izzie would hurry and get well.” 

“ We’ll be real good to her when she does, 
won’t we? ” said Clover. “ I never mean to 
leave my rubbers in the hat-stand any more, 
because she don’t like to have me. And I shall 
pick up the croquet-balls and put them in the 
box every night.” 

“Yes,” added Elsie, “so will I, when she 
gets well.” 

It never occurred to either of them that per¬ 
haps Aunt Izzie might not get well. Little 
people are apt to feel as if grown folks are so 
strong and so big, that nothing can possibly 
happen to them. 

Katy was more anxious. Still she did not 
fairly realize the danger. So it came like a 
sudden and violent shock to her, when, one 


222 


What Katy Did 

morning on waking up, she found old Mary 
crying quietly beside the bed, with her apron 
at her eyes. Aunt Izzie had died in the 
night! 

All their kind, penitent thoughts of her; 
their resolutions to please — their plans for 
obeying her wishes and saving her trouble, 
were too late! For the first time, the three 
girls, sobbing in each other’s arms, realized 
what a good friend Aunt Izzie had been to 
them. Her worrying ways were all forgotten 
now. They could only remember the many 
kind things she had done for them since they 
were little children. How they wished that 
they had never teased her, never said sharp 
words about her to each other! But it was no 
use to wish. 

“ What shall we do without Aunt Izzie? ” 
thought Katy, as she cried herself to sleep that 
night. And the question came into her mind 
again and again, after the funeral was over 
and the little ones had come back from Mrs. 
Hall’s, and things began to go on in their usual 
manner. 

For several days she saw almost nothing of 


A New Lesson to Learn 223 

her father. Clover reported that he looked 
very tired and scarcely said a word. 

“ Did Papa eat any dinner? ” asked Katy, 
one afternoon. 

“ Not much. He said he wasn ’t hungry. 
And Mrs. Jackson’s boy came for him before 
we were through.” 

“ Oh dear! ” sighed Katy, “I do hope he 
isn’t going to be sick. How it rains! Clovy, 
I wish you’d run down and get out his slippers 
and put them by the fire to warm. Oh, and 
ask Debby to make some cream-toast for tea! 
Papa likes cream-toast.” 

After tea, Dr. Carr came up stairs to sit a 
while in Katy’s room. He often did so, but 
this was the first time since Aunt Izzie’s 
death. 

Katy studied his face anxiously. It seemed 
to her that it had grown older of late, and there 
was a sad look upon it, which made her heart 
ache. She longed to do something for him, 
but all she could do was to poke the fire bright, 
and then to possess herself of his hand, and 
stroke it gently with both hers. It wasn’t 
much, to be sure, but I think Papa liked it. 


224 What Katy Did 

“ What have you been about all day? ” he 
asked. 

“ Oh, nothing, much,” said Katy. “ I stud¬ 
ied my French lesson this morning. And 
after school, Elsie and John brought in their 
patchwork, and we had a ‘Bee.’ That’s 
all.” 

“ I’ve been thinking how we are to manage 
about the housekeeping,” said Dr. Carr. “ Of 
course we shall have to get somebody to come 
and take charge. But it isn ’t easy to find just 
the right person. Mrs. Hall knows of a woman 
who might do, but she is out West, just now, 
and it will be a week or two before we can hear 
from her. Do you think you can get on as you 
are for a few days? ” 

“ Oh, Papa! ” cried Katy, in dismay, “ must 
we have anybody? ” 

“ Why, how did you suppose we were going 
to arrange it? Clover is much too young for 
a housekeeper. And beside, she is at school all 
day.” 

“ I don’t know — I hadn’t thought about 
it,” said Katy, in a perplexed tone. 

But she did think about it — all that eve- 


A New Lesson to Learn 225 

ning, and the first thing when she woke in the 
morning. 

“ Papa, 55 she said, the next time she got 
him to herself, “ I 5 ve been thinking over what 
you were saying last night, about getting some¬ 
body to keep the house, you know. And I wish 
you wouldn 5 t. I wish you would let me try. 
Really and truly, I think I could manage. 55 

“ But how? 55 asked Dr. Carr, much sur¬ 
prised. “ I really don 5 t see. If you were well 
and strong, perhaps — but even then you 
would be pretty young for such a charge, 
Katy. 55 

“ I shall be fourteen in two weeks, 55 said 
Katy, drawing herself up in her chair as 
straight as she could. “ And if I were well, 
Papa, I should be going to school, you know, 
and then of course I couldn 5 t. No, 1 5 11 tell 
you my plan. 1 5 ve been thinking about it all 
day. Debby and Bridget have been with us so 
long, that they know all Aunt Izzie’s ways, and 
they’re such good women, that all they want 
is just to be told a little now and then. Now, 
why couldn’t they come up to me when any¬ 
thing is wanted — just as well as to have me 


226 


What Katy Did 

go down to them? Clover and old Mary will 
keep watch, you know, and see if anything is 
wrong. And you wouldn’t mind if things were 
a little crooked just at first, would you? be¬ 
cause, you know, I should be learning all the 
time. Do let me try! It will be real nice to 
have something to think about as I sit up here 
alone, so much better than having a stranger 
in the house who doesn’t know the children 
or anything. I am sure it will make me 
happier. Please say ‘ Yes,’ Papa, please 
do!” 

“ It’s too much for you, a great deal too 
much,” replied Dr. Carr. But it was not easy 
to resist Katy’s “ Please! Please! ” and after 
a while it ended with — 

“ Well, darling, you may try, though I am 
doubtful as to the result of the experiment. I 
will tell Mrs. Hall to put off writing to Wis¬ 
consin for a month, and we will see. 

“ Poor child, anything to take her thoughts 
off herself! ” he muttered, as he walked down 
stairs. “ She’ll be glad enough to give the 
thing up by the end of the month.” 

But Papa was mistaken. At the end of a 


A New Lesson to Learn 227 

month Katy was eager to go on. So he said, 
“ Very well — she might try it till Spring.” 

It was not such hard work as it sounds. 
Katy had plenty of quiet thinking-time for one 
thing. The children were at school all day, 
and few visitors came to interrupt her, so she 
could plan out her hours and keep to the plans. 
That is a great help to a housekeeper. 

Then Aunt Izzie’s regular, punctual ways 
were so well understood by the servants, that 
the house seemed almost to keep itself. As 
Katy had said, all Debby and Bridget needed 
was a little “ telling ” now and then. 

As soon as breakfast was over, and the 
dishes were washed and put away, Debby 
would tie on a clean apron, and come up 
stairs for orders. At first Katy thought this 
great fun. But after ordering dinner a good 
many times, it began to grow tiresome. She 
never saw the dishes after they were cooked; 
and, being inexperienced, it seemed impossible 
to think of things enough to make a variety. 

“ Let me see — there is roast beef — leg of 
mutton — boiled chicken,” she would say, 
counting on her fingers, “ roast beef — leg of 


228 


What Katy Did 

mutton — boiled chicken. Debby, you might 
roast the chickens. Dear! — I wish somebody 
would invent a new animal! Where all the 
things to eat are gone to, I can’t imagine! 55 

Then Katy would send for every recipe-book 
in the house, and pore over them by the hour, 
till her appetite was as completely gone as if 
she had swallowed twenty dinners. Poor 
Debby learned to dread these books. She 
would stand by the door with her pleasant red 
face drawn up into a pucker, while Katy read 
aloud some impossible-sounding rule. 

“ This looks as if it were delicious, Debby, 
I wish you’d try it: Take a gallon of oysters, 
a pint of beef stock, sixteen soda crackers, the 
juice of two lemons, four cloves, a glass of 
white wine, a sprig of marjoram, a sprig of 
thyme, a sprig of bay, a sliced shalott — ” 

“ Please, Miss Katy, what’s them?” 

“ Oh, don’t you know, Debby? It must be 
something quite common, for it’s in almost all 
the recipes.” 

“ No, Miss Katy, I never heard tell of it be¬ 
fore. Miss Carr never gave me no shell-outs 
at all at all!” 


A New Lesson to Learn 229 

“ Dear me, how provoking! ” Katy would 
cry, flapping over the leaves of her book; 
“ then we must try something else.” 

Poor Debby! If she hadn’t loved Katy so 
dearly, I think her patience must have given 
way. But she bore her trials meekly, except 
for an occasional grumble when alone with 
Bridget. Dr. Carr had to eat a great many 
queer things in those days. But he didn’t 
mind, and as for the children, they enjoyed it. 
Dinner-time became quite exciting, when no¬ 
body could tell exactly what any dish on the 
table was made of. Dorry, who was a sort of 
Dr. Livingstone where strange articles of food 
were concerned, usually made the first experi¬ 
ment, and if he said that it was good, the rest 
followed suit. 

After a while Katy grew wiser. She ceased 
teasing Debby to try new things, and the Carr 
family went back to plain roast and boiled, 
much to the advantage of all concerned. But 
then another series of experiments began. 
Katy got hold of a book upon “ The Stomach,” 
and was seized with a rage for wholesome food. 
She entreated Clover and the other children to 


230 


What Katy Did 

give up sugar, and butter, and gravy, and pud- 
ding-sauce, and buckwheat cakes, and pies, and 
almost everything else that they particularly 
liked. Boiled rice seemed to her the most sen¬ 
sible dessert, and she kept the family on it 
until finally John and Dorry started a rebel¬ 
lion, and Dr. Carr was forced to interfere. 

“ My dear, you are overdoing it sadly,” he 
said, as Katy opened her book and prepared to 
explain her views; “ I am glad to have the 
children eat simple food — but really, boiled 
rice five times in a week is too much.” 

Katy sighed, but submitted. Later, as the 
Spring came on, she had a fit of over-anxious- 
ness, and was always sending Clover down to 
ask Debby if her bread was not burning, or if 
she was sure that the pickles were not ferment¬ 
ing in their jars? She also fidgeted the chil¬ 
dren about wearing india-rubbers, and keeping 
on their coats, and behaved altogether as if the 
cares of the world were on her shoulders. 

But all these were but the natural mistakes 
of a beginner. Katy was too much in earnest 
not to improve. Month by month she learned 
how to manage a little better, and a little bet- 


A New Lesson to Learn 231 

ter still. Matters went on more smoothly. 
Her cares ceased to fret her. Dr. Carr watch¬ 
ing the increasing brightness of her face and 
manner, felt that the experiment was a success. 
Nothing more was said about “ somebody 
else,” and Katy, sitting up stairs in her big 
chair, held the threads of the house firmly in 
her hands. 


CHAPTER XII 


TWO YEARS AFTERWARD 

It was a pleasant morning in early June. A 
warm wind was rustling the trees, which were 
covered thickly with half-opened leaves, and 
looked like fountains of green spray thrown 
high into the air. Dr. Carr’s front door stood 
wide open. Through the parlor window came 
the sound of piano practice, and on the steps, 
under the budding roses, sat a small figure, 
busily sewing. 

This was Clover, little Clover still, though 
more than two years had passed since we saw 
her last, and she was now over fourteen. 
Clover was never intended to be tall. Her 
eyes were as blue and sweet as ever, and her 
apple-blossom cheeks as pink. But the brown 
pig-tails were pinned up into a round knot, and 
the childish face had gained almost a womanly 
look. Old Mary declared that Miss Clover 
was getting quite young-ladyfied, and “ Miss 


233 


Two Years Afterward 

Clover 55 was quite aware of the fact, and 
mightily pleased with it. It delighted her to 
turn up her hair; and she was very particular 
about having her dresses made to come below 
the tops of her boots. She had also left off 
ruffles, and wore narrow collars instead, and 
little cuffs with sleeve-buttons to fasten them. 
These sleeve-buttons, which were a present 
from Cousin Helen, Clover liked best of all 
her things. Papa said that he was sure she 
took them to bed with her, but of course that 
was only a joke, though she certainly was 
never seen without them in the daytime. She 
glanced frequently at these beloved buttons as 
she sat sewing, and every now and then laid 
down her work to twist them into a better 
position, or give them an affectionate pat with 
her forefinger. 

Pretty soon the side-gate swung open, and 
Philly came round the corner of the house. He 
had grown into a big boy. All his pretty baby 
curls were cut off, and his frocks had given 
place to jacket and trousers. In his hand he 
held something. What, Clover could not 


see. 


234 What Katy Did 

“ What’s that? ” she said, as he reached the 
steps. 

“ I’m going up stairs to ask Katy if these 
are ripe,” replied Phil, exhibiting some cur¬ 
rants faintly streaked with red. 

“ Why, of course they’re not ripe!” said 
Clover, putting one into her mouth. “ Can’t 
you tell by the taste? They’re as green as can 
be.” 

“ I don’t care, if Katy says they’re ripe I 
shall eat ’em,” answered Phil, defiantly, 
marching into the house. 

“What did Philly want?” asked Elsie, 
opening the parlor door as Phil went up stairs. 

“ Only to know if the currants are ripe 
enough to eat.” 

“How particular he always is about asking 
now!” said Elsie; “he’s afraid of another 
dose of salts.” 

“ I should think he would be,” replied 
Clover, laughing. “ Johnnie says she never 
was so scared in her life as when Papa called 
them, and they looked up, and saw him stand¬ 
ing there with the bottle in one hand and a 
spoon in the other! ” 


235 


Two Years Afterward 

“ Yes,” went on Elsie, “ and you know 
Dorry held his in his mouth for ever so long, 
and then went round the corner of the house 
and spat it out! Papa said he had a good 
mind to make him take another spoonful, but 
he remembered that after all Dorry had the 
bad taste a great deal longer than the others, 
so he didn’t. I think it was an awful punish¬ 
ment, don’t you*? ” 

“ Yes, but it was a good one, for none of 
them have ever touched the green gooseberries 
since. Have you got through practising*? It 
doesn’t seem like an hour yet.” 

“ Oh, it isn’t — it’s only twenty-five min¬ 
utes. But Katy told me not to sit more than 
half an hour at a time without getting up and 
running round to rest. I’m going to walk 
twice down to the gate, and twice back. I 
promised her I would.” And Elsie set off, 
clapping her hands briskly before and behind 
her as she walked. 

“ Why — what is Bridget doing in Papa’s 
room?” she asked, as she came back the sec¬ 
ond time. “ She’s flapping things out of the 


236 What Katy Did 

window. Are the girls up there? I thought 
they were cleaning the dining-room.” 

‘They’re doing both. Katy said it was 
such a good chance, having Papa away, that 
she would have both the carpets taken up at 
once. There isn’t going to be any dinner to¬ 
day, only just bread and butter, and milk, and 
cold ham, up in Katy’s room, because Debby 
is helping too, so as to get through and save 
Papa all the fuss. And see,” exhibiting her 
sewing, “ Katy’s making a new cover for 
Papa’s pincushion, and I’m hemming the ruffle 
to go round it.” 

“How nicely you hem!” said Elsie. “I 
wish I had something for Papa’s room too. 
There’s my washstand mats — but the one for 
the soap-dish isn’t finished. Do you suppose, 
if Katy would excuse me from the rest of my 
practising, I could get it done? I’ve a great 
mind to go and ask her.” 

“ There’s her bell! ” said Clover, as a little 
tinkle sounded up stairs; “ I’ll ask her, if you 
like.” 

“ No, let me go. I’ll see what she wants.” 
But Clover was already half-way across the 


Two Years Afterward 237 

hall, and the two girls ran up side by side. 
There was often a little strife between them 
as to which should answer Katy’s bell. Both 
liked to wait on her so much. 

Katy came to meet them as they entered. 
Not on her feet: that, alas! was still only a 
far-off possibility; but in a chair with large 
wheels, with which she was rolling herself 
across the room. This chair was a great com¬ 
fort to her. Sitting in it, she could get to her 
closet and her bureau-drawers, and help her¬ 
self to what she wanted without troubling 
anybody. It was only lately that she had been 
able to use it. Dr. Carr considered her doing 
so as a hopeful sign, but he had never told 
Katy this. She had grown accustomed to her 
invalid life at last, and was cheerful in it, and 
he thought it unwise to make her restless, by 
exciting hopes which might after all end in 
fresh disappointment. 

She met the girls with a bright smile as they 
came in, and said : 

“ Oh, Clovy, it was you I rang for! I am 
troubled for fear Bridget will meddle with the 
things on Papa’s table. You know he likes 


238 What Katy Did 

them to be left just so. Will you please go 
and remind her that she is not to touch them 
at all? After the carpet is put down, I want 
you to dust the table, so as to be sure that 
everything is put back in the same place. Will 
you? 55 

“ Of course I will! 55 said Clover, who was 
a born housewife, and dearly loved to act as 
Katy’s prime minister. 

“ Shan’t I fetch you the pincushion too, 
while I’m there? 55 

“ Oh yes, please do! I want to measure. 55 

“ Katy, 55 said Elsie, “ those mats of mine 
are most done, and I would like to finish 
them and put them on Papa’s washstand 
before he comes back. Mayn’t I stop prac¬ 
tising now, and bring my crochet up here in¬ 
stead? 55 

“ Will there be plenty of time to learn the 
new exercise before Miss Phillips comes, if 
you do? 55 

“ I think so, plenty. She doesn’t come till 
Friday, you know. 55 

“ Well, then it seems to me that you might 
just as well as not. And Elsie, dear, run into 


Two Years Afterward 239 

Papa’s room first, and bring me the drawer 
out of his table. I want to put that in order 
myself.” 

Elsie went cheerfully. She laid the drawer 
across Katy’s lap, and Katy began to dust and 
arrange the contents. Pretty soon Clover 
joined them. 

44 Here’s the cushion,” she said. 44 Now 
we’ll have a nice quiet time all by ourselves, 
won’t we 4 ? I like this sort of day, when no¬ 
body comes in to interrupt us.” 

Somebody tapped at the door, as she spoke. 
Katy called out, 44 Come! ” And in marched 
a tall, broad-shouldered lad, with a solemn, 
sensible face, and a little clock carried care¬ 
fully in both his hands. This was Dorry. He 
has grown and improved very much since we 
saw him last, and is turning out clever in sev¬ 
eral ways. Among the rest, he has developed 
a strong turn for mechanics. 

44 Here’s your clock, Katy,” he said. 44 I’ve 
got it fixed so that it strikes all right. Only 
you must be careful not to hit the striker when 
you start the pendulum.” 

44 Have you, really 4 ?” said Katy. 44 Why, 


240 What Katy Did 

Dorry, you’re a genius! I’m ever so much 
obliged.” 

“ It’s four minutes to eleven now,” went on 
Dorry. “ So it’ll strike pretty soon. I guess 
I’d better stay and hear it, so as to be sure 
that it is right. That is,” he added politely, 
“ unless you’re busy, and would rather not.” 

“ I’m never too busy to want you, old fel¬ 
low,” said Katy, stroking his arm. “ Here, 
this drawer is arranged now. Don’t you want 
to carry it into Papa’s room and put it back 
into the table? Your hands are stronger than 
Elsie’s.” 

Dorry looked gratified. When he came back 
the clock was just beginning to strike. 

“ There! ” he exclaimed; “ that’s splendid, 
isn’t it?” 

But alas! the clock did not stop at eleven. 
It went on — Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, 
Fifteen, Sixteen! 

“ Dear me! ” said Clover, “ what does all 
this mean? It must be day after to-morrow, 
at least.” 

Dorry stared with open mouth at the clock, 
which was still striking as though it would 


Two Years Afterward 241 

split its sides. Elsie, screaming with laugh¬ 
ter, kept count. 

“ Thirty, Thirty-one — Oh, Dorry! Thirty- 
two! Thirty-three! Thirty-four!” 

“ You’ve bewitched it, Dorry! ” said Katy, 
as much entertained as the rest. 

Then they all began counting. Dorry seized 
the clock — shook it, slapped it, turned it up¬ 
side-down. But still the sharp, vibrating 
sounds continued, as if the clock, having got 
its own way for once, meant to go on till it 
was tired out. At last, at the one-hundred- 
and-thirtieth stroke, it suddenly ceased; and 
Dorry, with a red, amazed countenance, faced 
the laughing company. 

44 It’s very queer,” he said, 44 but I’m sure 
it’s not because of anything I did. I can fix 
it, though, if you’ll let me try again. May I, 
Katy 4 ? I’ll promise not to hurt it.” 

For a moment Katy hesitated. Clover 
pulled her sleeve, and whispered, 44 Don’t! ” 
Then seeing the mortification on Dorry’s face, 
she made up her mind. 

44 Yes! take it, Dorry. I’m sure you’ll be 
careful. But if I were you, I’d carry it down 


242 


What Katy Did 

to Wetherell’s first of all, and talk it over with 
them. Together you could hit on just the right 
thing. Don’t you think so? ” 

“ Perhaps,” said Dorry; “ yes, I think I 
will.” Then he departed with the clock under 
his arm, while Clover called after him teas- 
ingly, “ Lunch at 132 o’clock; don’t forget! ” 

“ No, I won’t!’’said Dorry. Two years 
before he would not have borne to be laughed 
at so good-naturedly. 

“ How could you let him take your clock 
again? ” said Clover, as soon as the door was 
shut. “ He’ll spoil it. And you think so much 
of it.” 

“ I thought he would feel mortified if I 
didn’t let him try,” replied Katy, quietly, “ I 
don’t believe he’ll hurt it. Wetherell’s man 
likes Dorry, and he’ll show him what to do.” 

“ You were real good to do it,” responded 
Clover; “ but if it had been mine I don’t think 
I could.” 

Just then the door flew open, and Johnnie 
rushed in, two years taller, but otherwise look¬ 
ing exactly as she used to do. 

“Oh, Katy!” she gasped, “won’t you 


243 


Two Years Afterward 

please tell Philly not to wash the chickens in 
the rain-water tub ? He’s put in every one of 
Speckle’s, and is just beginning on Dame Dur¬ 
den’s. I’m afraid one little yellow one is dead 
already — ” 

“ Why, he mustn’t — of course he 
mustn’t! ” said Katy; “ what made him think 
of such a thing*?” 

“ He says they’re dirty, because they’ve just 
come out of egg-shells! And he insists that 
the yellow on them is yolk-of-egg. I told him 
it wasn’t, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” And 
Johnnie wrung her hands. 

“ Clover! ” cried Katy, “ won’t you run 
down and ask Philly to come up to me *? Speak 
pleasantly, you know! ” 

“ I spoke pleasantly — real pleasantly, but 
it wasn’t any use,” said Johnnie, on whom the 
wrongs of the chicks had evidently made a 
deep impression. 

“ What a mischief Phil is getting to be! ” 
said Elsie. “ Papa says his name ought to be 
Pickle.” 

“ Pickles turn out very nice sometimes, you 
know,” replied Katy, laughing. 


244 What Katy Did 

Pretty soon Philly came up, escorted by 
Clover. He looked a little defiant, but Katy 
understood how to manage him. She lifted 
him into her lap, which, big boy as he was, he 
liked extremely; and talked to him so affec¬ 
tionately about the poor little shivering chicks, 
that his heart was quite melted. 

“ I didn’t mean to hurt ’em, really and 
truly,” he said, “ but they were all dirty and 
yellow — with egg, you know, and I thought 
you’d like me to clean ’em up.” 

“ But that wasn’t egg, Philly — it was dear 
little clean feathers, like a canary-bird’s 
wings.” 

“ Was it?” 

“ Yes. And now the chickies are as cold and 
forlorn as you would feel if you tumbled into 
a pond and nobody gave you any dry clothes. 
Don’t you think you ought to go and warm 
them?” 

“ How?” 

“ Well — in your hands, very gently. And 
then I would let them run round in the sun.” 

“ I will! ” said Philly, getting down from 
her lap. “ Only kiss me first, because I didn’t 


245 


Two Years Afterward 

mean to, you know! ” — Philly was very fond 
of Katy. Miss Petingill said it was wonder¬ 
ful to see how that child let himself be man¬ 
aged. But I think the secret was that Katy 
didn’t “ manage,” but tried to be always kind 
and loving, and considerate of Phil’s feelings. 

Before the echo of Phil’s boots had fairly 
died away on the stairs, old Mary put her head 
into the door. There was a distressed expres¬ 
sion on her face. 

“ Miss Katy,” she said, “ I wish you'd speak 
to Alexander about putting the woodshed in 
order. I don’t think you know how bad it 
looks.” 

“ I don’t suppose I do,” said Katy, smiling, 
and then sighing. She had never seen the 
wood-shed since the day of her fall from the 
swing. “ Never mind, Mary, I’ll talk to 
Alexander about it, and he shall make it all 
nice.” 

Mary trotted down stairs satisfied. But in 
the course of a few minutes she was up again. 

“ There’s a man come with a box of soap, 
Miss Katy, and here’s the bill. He says it’s 
resated.” 


246 What Katy Did 

It took Katy a little time to find her purse, 
and then she wanted her pencil and account- 
book, and Elsie had to move from her seat at 
the table. 

“ Oh dear!” she said, “ I wish people 
wouldn’t keep coming and interrupting us. 
Who’ll be the next, I wonder? ” 

She was not left to wonder long. Almost 
as she spoke, there was another knock at the 
door. 

“ Come in! ” said Katy, rather wearily. 
The door opened. 

“ Shall I?” said a voice. There was a 
rustle of skirts, a clatter of boot-heels, and 
Imogen Clark swept into the room. Katy 
could not think who it was, at first. She had 
not seen Imogen for almost two years. 

“ I found the front door open,” explained 
Imogen, in her high-pitched voice, “ and as 
nobody seemed to hear when I rang the bell, I 
ventured to come right up stairs. I hope I’m 
not interrupting anything private? ” 

“ Not at all,” said Katy, politely. “ Elsie, 
dear, move up that low chair, please. Do sit 
down, Imogen! I’m sorry nobody answered 


247 


Two Years Afterward 

your ring, but the servants are cleaning 
house to-day, and I suppose they didn’t 
hear.” 

So Imogen sat down and began to rattle on 
in her usual manner, while Elsie, from behind 
Katy’s chair, took a wide-awake survey of her 
dress. It was of cheap material, but very gor¬ 
geously made and trimmed, with flounces and 
puffs, and Imogen wore a jet necklace and 
long black ear-rings, which jingled and clicked 
when she waved her head about. She still had 
the little round curls stuck on to her cheeks, 
and Elsie wondered anew what kept them in 
their places. 

By and by the object of Imogen’s visit came 
out. She had called to say good-by. The 
Clark family were all going back to Jackson¬ 
ville to live. 

“Did you ever see the Brigand again 1 ?” 
asked Clover, who had never forgotten that 
eventful tale told in the parlor. 

“Yes,” replied Imogen, “several times. 
And I get letters from him quite often. He 
writes beaut\iu\ letters. I wish I had one with 
me, so that I could read you a little bit. You 


248 What Katy Did 

would enjoy it, I know. Let me see — per¬ 
haps I have.” And she put her hand into her 
pocket. Sure enough there was a letter. 
Clover couldn’t help suspecting that Imogen 
knew it all the time. 

The Brigand seemed to write a bold, black 
hand, and his note-paper and envelope was 
just like anybody else’s. But perhaps his band 
had surprised a pedlar with a box of station¬ 
ery. 

“ Let me see,” said Imogen, running her eye 
down the page. “ ‘ Adored Imogen 5 — that 
wouldn’t interest you — hm, hm, hm — ah, 
here’s something! ‘I took dinner at the Rock 
House on Christmas. It was lonesome without 
you. I had roast turkey, roast goose, roast 
beef, mince pie, plum pudding, and nuts and 
raisins. A pretty good dinner, was it not? 
But nothing tastes first-rate when friends are 
away ’ ” 

Katy and Clover stared, as well they might. 
Such language from a Brigand! 

“ John Billings has bought a new horse,” 
continued Imogen; “ hm, hm, hm — him. I 
don’t think there is anything else you’d care 


Two Years Afterward 249 

about. Oh, yes! just here, at the end, is some 
poetry: 

Come, little dove, with azure wing, 

And brood upon my breast/ 

“ That’s sweet, ain’t it? ” 

“ Hasn’t he reformed?” said Clover; “ he 
writes as if he had.” 

“ Reformed! ” cried Imogen, with a toss of 
the jingling ear-rings. “ He was always just 
as good as he could be! ” 

There was nothing to be said in reply to 
this. Katy felt her lips twitch, and for fear 
she should be rude, and laugh out, she began 
to talk as fast as she could about something 
else. All the time she found herself taking 
measure of Imogen, and thinking — “ Did I 
ever really like her? How queer! Oh, what 
a wise man Papa is! ” 

Imogen stayed half an hour. Then she took 
her leave. 

“ She never asked how you were! ” cried 
Elsie, indignantly; “ I noticed, and she didn’t 
— not once.” 

“ Oh well —I suppose she forgot. We were 


250 What Katy Did 

talking about her, not about me,” replied 
Katy. 

The little group settled down again to their 
work. This time half an hour went by with¬ 
out any more interruptions. Then the door 
bell rang, and Bridget, with a disturbed face, 
came up stairs. 

“Miss Katy,” she said, “ it’s old Mrs. 
Worrett, and I reckon’s she’s come to spend 
the day, for she’s brought her bag. What ever 
shall I tell her?” 

Katy looked dismayed. “Oh dear!” she 
said, “ how unlucky. What can we do? ” 

Mrs. Worrett was an old friend of Aunt 
Izzie’s, who lived in the country, about six 
miles from Burnet, and was in the habit of 
coming to Dr. Carr’s for lunch, on days when 
shopping or other business brought her into 
town. This did not occur often; and, as it 
happened, Katy had never had to entertain 
her before. 

“ Tell her ye’re busy, and can’t see her,” 
suggested Bridget; “ there’s no dinner nor 
nothing, you know.” 

The Katy of two years ago would probably 


Two Years Afterward 251 

have jumped at this idea. But the Katy of 
to-day was more considerate. 

“ N-o,” she said; “ I don’t like to do that. 
We must just make the best of it, Bridget. 
Run down, Clover, dear, that’s a good girl! 
and tell Mrs. Worrett that the dining-room is 
all in confusion, but that we’re going to have 
lunch here, and, after she’s rested, I should 
be glad to have her come up. And, oh, Clovy! 
give her a fan the first thing. She’ll be so hot. 
Bridget, you can bring up the luncheon just 
the same, only take out some canned peaches, 
by way of a dessert, and make Mrs. Worrett 
a cup of tea. She drinks tea always, I believe. 

“ I can’t bear to send the poor old lady away 
when she has come so far,” she explained to 
Elsie, after the others were gone. “ Pull the 
rocking-chair a little this way, Elsie. And oh! 
push all those little chairs back against the 
wall. Mrs. Worrett broke down in one the 
last time she was here — don’t you recol¬ 
lect?” 

It took some time to cool Mrs. Worrett off, 
so nearly twenty minutes passed before a 
heavy, creaking step on the stairs announced 


252 


What Katy Did 

that the guest was on her way up. Elsie began 
to giggle. Mrs. Worrett always made her gig¬ 
gle. Katy had just time to give her a warning 
glance before the door opened. 

Mrs. Worrett was the most enormously fat 
person ever seen. Nobody dared to guess how 
much she weighed, but she looked as if it 
might be a thousand pounds. Her face was 
extremely red. In the coldest weather she ap¬ 
peared hot, and on a mild day she seemed 
absolutely ready to melt. Her bonnet-strings 
were flying loose as she came in, and she 
fanned herself all the way across the room, 
which shook as she walked. 

“ Well, my dear, 55 she said, as she plumped 
herself into the rocking-chair, “ and how do 
you do? 55 

“ Very well, thank you, 55 replied Katy, 
thinking that she never saw Mrs. Worrett look 
half so fat before, and wondering how she was 
to entertain her. 

“ And how’s your Pa? 55 inquired Mrs. Wor¬ 
rett. Katy answered politely, and then asked 
after Mrs. Worrett 5 s own health. 

“ Well, I’m so 5 s to be round, 55 was the reply, 


Two Years Afterward 253 

which had the effect of sending Elsie off into 
a fit of convulsive laughter behind Katy’s 
chair. 

44 I had business at the bank, 55 continued the 
visitor, 44 and I thought while I was about it 
I 5 d step up to Miss Petingill’s and see if I 
couldn’t get her to come and let out my black 
silk. It was made quite a piece back, and I 
seem to have fleshed up since then, for I can’t 
make the hooks and eyes meet at all. But 
when I got there, she was out, so I’d my walk 
for nothing. Do you know where she’s sew¬ 
ing now 4 ? ” 

44 No,” said Katy, feeling her chair shake, 
and keeping her own countenance with diffi¬ 
culty, 44 she was here for three days last week 
to make Johnnie a school-dress. But I haven’t 
heard anything about her since. Elsie, don’t 
you want to run down stairs and ask Bridget 
to bring a — a — a glass of iced water for 
Mrs. Worrett 4 ? She looks warm after her 
walk.” 

Elsie, dreadfully ashamed, made a bolt 
from the room, and hid herself in the hall 
closet to have her laugh out. She came back 


254 


What Katy Did 

after a while, with a perfectly straight face. 
Luncheon was brought up. Mrs. Worrett 
made a good meal, and seemed to enjoy every¬ 
thing. She was so comfortable that she never 
stirred till four o’clock! Oh, how long that 
afternoon did seem to the poor girls, sitting 
there and trying to think of something to say 
to their vast visitor! 

At last Mrs. Worrett got out of her chair, 
and prepared to depart. 

“ Well,” she said, tying her bonnet-strings, 
“ I’ve had a good rest, and feel all the better 
for it. Ain’t some of you young folks coming 
out to see me one of these days? I’d like to 
have you, first-rate, if you will. ’Tain’t every 
girl would know how to take care of a fat old 
woman, and make her feel to home, as you 
have me, Katy. I wish your aunt could see 
you all as you are now. She’d be right pleased; 
I know that.” 

Somehow, this sentence rang pleasantly in 
Katy’s ears. 

“ Ah! don’t laugh at her,” she said later in 
the evening, when the children, after their 
tea in the clean, fresh-smelling dining-room, 


Two Years Afterward 255 

were come up to sit with her, and Cecy, in her 
pretty pink lawn and white shawl, had 
dropped in to spend an hour or two; “ she’s a 
real kind old woman, and I don’t like to have 
you. It isn’t her fault that she’s fat. And 
Aunt Izzie was fond of her, you know. It is 
doing something for her when we can show a 
little attention to one of her friends. I was 
sorry when she came, but now it’s over, I’m 
glad.” 

“ It feels so nice when it stops aching,” 
quoted Elsie, mischievously, while Cecy whis¬ 
pered to Clover. 

“ Isn’t Katy sweet? ” 

“ Isn’t she! ” replied Clover. “ I wish I 
was half so good. Sometimes I think I shall 
really be sorry if she ever gets well. She’s 
such a dear old darling to us all, sitting there 
in her chair, that it wouldn’t seem so nice to 
have her anywhere else. But then, I know it’s 
horrid in me. And I don’t believe she’d be 
different, or grow slam-bang and horrid, like 
some of the girls, even if she were well.” 

“ Of course she wouldn’t! ” replied Cecy. 


CHAPTER XIII 


AT LAST 

It was about six weeks after this, that one 
day, Clover and Elsie were busy down stairs, 
they were startled by the sound of Katy’s bell 
ringing in a sudden and agitated manner. 
Both ran up two steps at a time, to see what 
was wanted. 

Katy sat in her chair, looking very much 
flushed and excited. 

“ Oh, girls! ” she exclaimed, “ what do you 
think? I stood up! ” 

“ What? ” cried Clover and Elsie. 

“ I really did! I stood up on my feet! by 
myself! ” 

The others were too much astonished to 
speak, so Katy went on explaining. 

“ It was all at once, you see. Suddenly, I 
had the feeling that if I tried I could, and al¬ 
most before I thought, I did try, and there I 


At Last 


257 


was, up and out of the chair. Only I kept hold 
of the arm all the time! I don’t know how I 
got back, I was so frightened. Oh, girls! ” — 
and Katy buried her face in her hands. 

“ Do you think I shall ever be able to do 
it again?” she asked, looking up with wet 
eyes. 

“ Why, of course you will! ” said Clover; 
while Elsie danced about, crying out anx¬ 
iously: “ Be careful! Do be careful! ” 

Katy tried, but the spring was gone. She 
could not move out of the chair at all. She 
began to wonder if she had dreamed the whole 
thing. 

But next day, when Clover happened to be 
in the room, she heard a sudden exclamation, 
and turning, there stood Katy, absolutely on 
her feet. 

“Papa! papa!” shrieked Clover, rushing 
down stairs. “ Dorry, John, Elsie — come! 
Come and see! ” 

Papa was out, but all the rest crowded up at 
once. This time Katy found no trouble in 
“ doing it again.” It seemed as if her will had 
been asleep; and now that it had waked up, 


258 What Katy Did 

the limbs recognized its orders and obeyed 
them. 

When Papa came in, he was as much excited 
as any of the children. He walked round and 
round the chair, questioning Katy and making 
her stand up and sit down. 

“ Am I really going to get well ? 55 she asked, 
almost in a whisper. 

“ Yes, my love, I think you are,” replied 
Dr. Carr, seizing Phil and giving him a toss 
into the air. None of the children had ever 
before seen Papa behave so like a boy. But 
pretty soon, noticing Katy’s burning cheeks 
and excited eyes, he calmed himself, sent the 
others all away, and sat down to soothe and 
quiet her with gentle words. 

“ I think it is coming, my darling,” he said, 
“ but it will take time, and you must have a 
great deal of patience. After being such a 
good child all the years, I am sure you won’t 
fail now. Remember, any imprudence will 
put you back. You must be content to gain a 
very little at a time. There is no royal road 
to walking any more than there is to learning. 
Every baby finds that out.” 


At Last 


259 

“Oh, Papa! ” said Katy, “it’s no matter 
if it takes a year — if only I get well at last.” 

How happy she was that night — too happy 
to sleep. Papa noticed the dark circles under 
her eyes in the morning, and shook his head. 

“ You must be careful,” he told her, “ or 
you’ll be laid up again. A course of fever 
would put you back for years.” 

Katy knew Papa was right, and she was 
careful, though it was by no means easy to 
be so with that new life tingling in every limb. 
Her progress was slow, as Dr. Carr had pre¬ 
dicted. At first she only stood on her feet a 
few seconds, then a minute, then five minutes, 
holding tightly all the while by the chair. 
Next she ventured to let go the chair, and 
stand alone. After that she began to walk a 
step at a time, pushing a chair before her, as 
children do when they are learning the use of 
their feet. Clover and Elsie hovered about 
her as she moved, like anxious mammas. It 
was droll, and a little pitiful, to see tall Katy 
with her feeble, unsteady progress, and the 
active figures of the little sisters following her 
protectingly. But Katy did not consider it 


26 o 


What Katy Did 

either droll or pitiful; to her it was simply 
delightful — the most delightful thing pos¬ 
sible. No baby of a year old was ever prouder 
of his first steps than she. 

Gradually she grew adventurous, and ven¬ 
tured on a bolder flight. Clover, running up 
stairs one day to her own room, stood trans¬ 
fixed at the sight of Katy sitting there, flushed, 
panting, but enjoying the surprise she caused. 

“ You see,” she explained, in an apolo¬ 
gizing tone, “ I was seized with a desire to 
explore. It is such a time since I saw any 
room but my own! But oh dear, how long 
that hall is! I had forgotten it could be so 
long. I shall have to take a good rest before 
I go back.” 

Katy did take a good rest, but she was very 
tired next day. The experiment, however, did 
no harm. In the course of two or three weeks, 
she was able to walk all over the second story. 

This was a great enjoyment. It was like 
reading an interesting book to see all the new 
things, and the little changes. She was for¬ 
ever wondering over something. 


At Last 


261 


“ Why, Dorry,” she would say, “ what a 
pretty book-shelf! When did you get it? ” 
“That old thing! Why, I’ve had it two 
years. Didn’t I ever tell you about it? ” 

“ Perhaps you did,” Katy would reply, 
“ but you see I never saw it before, so it made 
no impression.” 

By the end of August she was grown so 
strong, that she began to talk about going 
down stairs. But Papa said, “Wait.” 

“ It will tire you much more than walking 
about on a level,” he explained, “ you had bet¬ 
ter put it off a little while — till you are quite 
sure of your feet.” 

“ I think so too,” said Clover; “ and beside, 
I want to have the house all put in order and 
made nice, before your sharp eyes see it, Mrs. 
Housekeeper. Oh, I’ll tell you! Such a beau¬ 
tiful idea has come into my head! You shall 
fix a day to come down, Katy, and we’ll be all 
ready for you, and have a ‘ celebration ’ among 
ourselves. That would be just lovely! How 
soon may she, Papa? ” 

“ Well — in ten days, I should say, it might 
be safe.” 


262 


What Katy Did 

Ten days! that will bring it to the seventh 
of September, won’t it? ” said Katy. “ Then 
Papa, if I may, I’ll come down for the first 
time on the eighth. It was Mamma’s birthday, 
you know,” she added in a lower voice. 

So it was settled. “ How delicious! ” cried 
Clover, skipping about and clapping her 
hands: “ I never, never, never did hear of 

anything so perfectly lovely. Papa, when are 
you coming down stairs? I want to speak to 
you dreadfully .” 

“ Right away — rather than have my coat¬ 
tails pulled off,” answered Dr. Carr, laughing, 
and they went away together. Katy sat look¬ 
ing out of the window in a peaceful, happy 
mood. 

“ Oh! ” she thought, “ can it really be? Is 
School going to ‘ let out,’ just as Cousin 
Helen’s hymn said? Am I going to 

c Bid a sweet good-bye to Pain? ’ 

But there was Love in the Pain. I see it now. 
How good the dear Teacher has been to me! ” 

Clover seemed to be very busy all the rest 
of that week. She was “ having windows 


At Last 


263 

washed,” she said, but this explanation hardly 
accounted for her long absences, and the mys¬ 
terious exultation on her face, not to mention 
certain sounds of hammering and sawing 
which came from down stairs. The other chil¬ 
dren had evidently been warned to say noth¬ 
ing; for once or twice Philly broke out with, 
“ Oh, Katy!” and then hushed himself up, 
saying, “ I ’most forgot!” Katy grew very 
curious. But she saw that the secret, whatever 
it was, gave immense satisfaction to every¬ 
body except herself; so, though she longed to 
know, she concluded not to spoil the fun by 
asking any questions. 

At last it wanted but one day of the impor¬ 
tant occasion. 

“ See,” said Katy, as Clover came into the 
room a little before tea-time. “ Miss Petingill 
has brought home my new dress. I’m going to 
wear it for the first time to go down stairs in.” 

“ How pretty! ” said Clover, examining the 
dress, which was a soft, dove-colored cashmere, 
trimmed with ribbon of the same shade. “ But 
Katy, I came up to shut your door. Bridget’s 
going to sweep the hall, and I don’t want the 


264 What Katy Did 

dust to fly in, because your room was brushed 
this morning, you know.” 

“ What a queer time to sweep a hall! ” said 
Katy, wonderingly. “ Why don’t you make 
her wait till morning? ” 

“ Oh, she can’t! There are — she has — I 
mean there will be other things for her to do 
to-morrow. It’s a great deal more convenient 
that she should do it now. Don’t worry, Katy, 
darling, but just keep your door shut. You 
will, won’t you? Promise me! ” 

“ Very well,” said Katy, more and more 
amazed, but yielding to Clover’s eagerness, 
“ I’ll keep it shut.” Her curiosity was ex¬ 
cited. She took a book and tried to read, but 
the letters danced up and down before her 
eyes, and she couldn’t help listening. Bridget 
was making a most ostentatious noise with her 
broom, but through it all, Katy seemed to hear 
other sounds — feet on the stairs, doors open¬ 
ing and shutting — once, a stifled giggle. 
How queer it all was! 

“ Never mind,” she said, resolutely stop¬ 
ping her ears, “ I shall know all about it to- 

3 ? 


morrow. 


At Last 265 

To-morrow dawned fresh and fair — the 
very ideal of a September day. 

“ Katy! ” said Clover, as she came in from 
the garden with her hands full of flowers, 
“ that dress of yours is sweet. You never 
looked so nice before in your life! ” And she 
stuck a beautiful carnation pink under Katy’s 
breast-pin and fastened another in her hair. 

“ There! ” she said, “ now you’re adorned. 
Papa is coming up in a few minutes to take 
you down.” 

Just then Elsie and Johnnie came in. They 
had on their best frocks. So had Clover. It 
was evidently a festival-day to all the house. 
Cecy followed, invited over for the special 
purpose of seeing Katy walk down stairs. 
She, too, had on a new frock. 

“ How fine we are! ” said Clover, as she re¬ 
marked this magnificence. “Turn round, 
Cecy — a panier, I do declare — and a sash! 
You are getting awfully grown up, Miss 
Hall.” 

“ None of us will ever be so ‘ grown up ’ 
as Katy,” said Cecy, laughing. 

And now Papa appeared. Very slowly they 


266 


What Katy Did 

all went down stairs, Katy leaning on Papa, 
with Dorry on her other side, and the girls be¬ 
hind, while Philly clattered ahead. And there 
were Debby and Bridget and Alexander, peep¬ 
ing out of the kitchen door to watch her, and 
dear old Mary with her apron at her eyes cry¬ 
ing for joy. 

“ Oh, the front door is open! ” said Katy, 
in a delighted tone. “ How nice! And what 
a pretty oil-cloth. That’s new since I was 
here.” 

“ Don’t stop to look at that!” cried Philly, 
who seemed in a great hurry about something. 
“ It isn’t new. It’s been there ever and ever 
so long! Come into the parlor instead.” 

“Yes!” said Papa, “dinner isn’t quite 
ready yet, you’ll have time to rest a little after 
your walk down stairs. You have borne it 
admirably, Katy. Are you very tired 4 ? ” 

“ Not a bit! ” replied Katy, cheerfully. “ I 
could do it alone, I think. Oh! the bookcase 
door has been mended! How nice it looks.” 

“Don’t wait, oh, don’t wait!” repeated 
Phil, in an agony of impatience. 

So they moved on. Papa opened the parlor 


At Last 


267 

door. Katy took one step into the room — 
then stopped. The color flashed over her face, 
and she held by the door-knob to support her¬ 
self. What was it that she saw? 

Not merely the room itself, with its fresh 
muslin curtains and vases of flowers. Nor 
even the wide, beautiful window which had 
been cut toward the sun, or the inviting little 
couch and table which stood there, evidently 
for her. No, there was something else! The 
sofa was pulled out and there upon it, sup¬ 
ported by pillows, her bright eyes turned to 
the door, lay — Cousin Helen! When she 
saw Katy, she held out her arms. 

Clover and Cecy agreed afterward that they 
never were so frightened in their lives as at 
this moment; for Katy, forgetting her weak¬ 
ness, let go of Papa’s arm, and absolutely ran 
toward the sofa. “ Oh, Cousin Helen! dear, 
dear Cousin Helen! ” she cried. Then she 
tumbled down by the sofa somehow, the two 
pairs of arms and the two faces met, and for a 
moment or two not a word more was heard 
from anybody. 

“ Isn’t a nice ’prise? ” shouted Philly, turn- 


268 


What Katy Did 

ing a somerset by way of relieving his feelings, 
while John and Dorry executed a sort of war- 
dance round the sofa. 

Phil’s voice seemed to break the spell of 
silence, and a perfect hubbub of questions and 
exclamations began. 

It appeared that this happy thought of get¬ 
ting Cousin Helen to the “ Celebration,” was 
Clover’s. She it was who had proposed it to 
Papa, and made all the arrangements. And, 
artful puss! she had set Bridget to sweep the 
hall, on purpose that Katy might not hear the 
noise of the arrival. 

“ Cousin Helen’s going to stay three weeks 
this time — isn’t that nice*?” asked Elsie, 
while Clover anxiously questioned: “ Are you 
sure that you didn’t suspect? Not one bit? 
Not the least tiny, weeny mite? ” 

“ No, indeed — not the least. How could 
I suspect anything so perfectly delightful?” 
And Katy gave Cousin Helen another raptur¬ 
ous kiss. 

Such a short day as that seemed! There was 
so much to see, to ask about, to talk over, that 


At Last 269 

the hours flew, and evening dropped upon 
them all like another great surprise. 

Cousin Helen was perhaps the happiest of 
the party. Beside the pleasure of knowing 
Katy to be almost well again, she had the ad¬ 
ditional enjoyment of seeing for herself how 
many changes for the better had taken place, 
during the four years, among the little cousins 
she loved so much. 

It was very interesting to watch them all. 
Elsie and Dorry seemed to her the most im¬ 
proved of the family. Elsie had quite lost her 
plaintive look and little injured tone, and was 
as bright and beaming a maiden of twelve as 
any one could wish to see. Dorry’s moody 
face had grown open and sensible, and his 
manners were good-humored and obliging. 
He was still a sober boy, and not specially 
quick in catching an idea, but he promised to 
turn out a valuable man. And to him, as to 
all the other children, Katy was evidently the 
centre and the sun. They all revolved about 
her, and trusted her for everything. Cousin 
Helen looked on as Phil came in crying, after 
a hard tumble, and was consoled; as Johnnie 


270 What Katy Did 

whispered an important secret, and Elsie 
begged for help in her work. She saw Katy 
meet them all pleasantly and sweetly, without 
a bit of the dictatorial elder-sister in her man¬ 
ner, and with none of her old, impetuous tone. 
And best of all, she saw the change in Katy’s 
own face: the gentle expression of her eyes, 
the womanly look, the pleasant voice, the po¬ 
liteness, the tact in advising the others, with¬ 
out seeming to advise. 

“ Dear Katy,” she said a day or two after 
her arrival, “ this visit is a great pleasure to 
me — you can’t think how great. It is such 
a contrast to the last I made, when you were 
so sick, and everybody so sad. Do you remem¬ 
ber?” 

“Indeed I do! And how good you were, 
and how you helped me! I shall never forget 
that.” 

“ I’m glad! But what I could do was very 
little. You have been learning by yourself all 
this time. And Katy, darling, I want to tell 
you how pleased I am to see how bravely you 
have worked your way up. I can perceive it 
in everything — in Papa, in the children, in 


At Last 


271 


yourself. You have won the place, which, you 
recollect, I once told you an invalid should try 
to gain, of being to everybody ‘ The Heart of 
the House.’ ” 

“ Oh, Cousin Helen, don’t! ” said Katy, her 
eyes filling with sudden tears. “ I haven’t 
been brave. You can’t think how badly I 
sometimes have behaved — how cross and un¬ 
grateful I am, and how stupid and slow. 
Every day I see things which ought to be done, 
and I don’t do them. It’s too delightful to 
have you praise me — but you mustn’t. I don’t 
deserve it.” 

But although she said she didn’t deserve it 
I think that Katy did! 
















The Katy Did Series 


By 

SUSAN COOLIDGE 

5 vol. 12mo. Illustrated. In box. 

1. What Katy Did 

2. What Katy Did at School 

3. What Katy Did Next 

4. Clover 

5. In the High Valley 

Like Miss Alcott’s “Little Women Series” Susan Coolidge’s 
“Katy Did Series” never lose their interest for young readers, 
and after years of popularity are still among the essential books 
for children in public libraries throughout the country. 

“Susan Coolidge has been endowed by some good fairy with 
the gift of story writing. Her books are sensible, vivacious, and 
full of incident to tickle the fancy and brighten the mind of 
young readers, and withal full also of wise and judicious teach¬ 
ings, couched beneath the simple talk and simple doings of child¬ 
hood .”—The Christian Intelligencer . 

“Not even Miss Alcott apprehends child nature with finer sym¬ 
pathy, or pictures its nobler traits with more skill .”—The Boston 
Advertiser. 

“This ever-delightful author, Susan Coolidge, knows as well 
what is good for a girl’s mind as what will delight her heart. . . . 
And she knows just what girls do and say when they are left to 
themselves .”—The Critic , New York. 

“All Susan Coolidge’s stories have a fine sympathy with child 
nature, and are free from exaggeration and sensationalism.”— 
The Outlook, New York. 

Boston LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY Publishers 



























































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